I'm heading out tomorrow on a five day rock climbing trip with Wolverine*, Stone King**, and Beautiful***. It should be a fun time of hanging out with all the tom-foolery that comes with camping like fires, Frisbees, beer, and good conversation. And all that's good. I like everyone on the trip. But that's really not what I'm looking forward to. Do you want to know why I'm excited about this trip?
Desperation.
That's easier to explain in context, so let me give you an example. Imagine you're clinging to a rock wall roughly eighty feet off the ground. Your hands are so sweaty from exertion, fear, and heat that it feels like every hand hold is a small pool of water. Your forearms are so engorged with blood from the effort of holding you on the wall that they start to choke themselves a little. The existing blood blocks the new blood from pumping up to the muscles with that much needed oxygen. In other words, it feels like giant rubber bands have been wrapped around your forearms, and your fingers are getting weaker by the second. You don't look down because you know what you'll see down there. You'll see your rope hanging freely for fifteen feet before it reaches the first piece of protection below you. That's a minimum of a thirty foot fall if you do what your body is telling you that you have to do. It's telling you, has been telling you, that you must let go. There's nothing left. No more power to give. That's thirty feet to think about all the things you could have done differently before the rope pulls taut.
[Click the picture. It gets much bigger.]
That's desperation.
That moment, that "do I" or "don't I" decision on the wall, is what I love. Sometimes I fall. But sometimes, sometimes I find energy I didn't think I had, and force myself to the top on will power and stupid determination alone. I love those times. I'm not going to attempt to make a spiritual connection to that. Frankly, it's just one of those things.
If you'll excuse me, I'm off in search of desperation.
Talk to you in a week or so.
*Please forgive the X-Man reference. I picked this name for my friend because of his resilience. He's lead a hard life, and he's still trucking along, still following Christ despite how easy it would be to blame Him for everything and jump ship. He's a little rough on the outside, but he's a good guy underneath everything.
**This friend and I know each other primarily through rock climbing. It's what we do together. I think he would have preferred "the Sultan of Ascension." But it's my blog, and I get to pick the names.
***That's my girlfriend. When I call her that, I'm not just talking about physical appearance (although the word applies), but to her spirit and character as well. She is beautiful to the core. And that sounds incredibly sappy... so I'll just stop typing now.
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