Gripped. That’s the word for it. I’d just climbed three quarters of a route when I found a great place to “rest” – a larger handhold, a few flaky edges for my feet, all on an overhang. I’d hang from one hand and shake out the other, then switch when I couldn’t hold on anymore. Shake. Switch. Shake. Switch. After a while I couldn’t tell whether it was helping or hurting and so I continued to climb. Two moves later I found myself desperately slapping for a hold. I hoped I had the strength left to latch on. I didn’t. Slap. Slip. Airborne.
It took me five or six more tries to complete the moves and make it to the top of the route. I guess I’ll have to come back and try this thing again!
Fear.
As I look back on that climb, I can’t help but notice that I’ve changed in the last year. When I first arrived in Las Vegas, my climbing was dictated by one thing: fear. The fear of falling drove me to pick routes I knew I’d be able to climb without falling (we call that “sending” a route). If it looked like I might not send on my first attempt, I wouldn’t climb it.
As I grew acclimated to climbing on a regular basis, my fear subsided (for the most part). I learned to distinguish between safe and dangerous falls. Most places on most routes, the fall is ok to take. Occasionally you find yourself in a dangerous “no fall” situation, and you have to deal with it in the moment.
Pride.
Having put away my fear, my climbing became driven by another attitude: pride. I subtly shifted my language from “I think I can” to “I should be able to.” Every success validated my confidence, and every failure was a frustration point. If I fell, I’d get ticked off and beat myself up because “I should have been able to.”
I started pushing into harder grades (harder for me anyhow) and found myself falling more. I finally found my first project route. This was the first time I’d ever tried a route unsuccessfully, and then come back on multiple days to try again and again before finally sending it. I even managed to “unsend” it – I came back again and fell. It took two more trips to send again.
Exploration.
As I tried and fell, tried and fell, tried and fell I finally realized that there’s more to this climbing thing than successfully sending routes. After all, as soon as I send, there’s another route waiting for me that’s even harder. Working routes that are either at my limit, or even beyond my ability has taught me a third mindset: exploration.
Exploration is a different mind space altogether: it is impossible to fail when the goal is simply to learn. Sometimes I find myself faced with a challenge and send, sometimes I fall. Sometimes I learn what works, and sometimes I learn what doesn’t.
There’s a difference between training and performance.
I love climbing because it serves as a metaphor for life. When I am in a new situation and I don’t know what to do, I try to get myself into “exploration mode.” When I explore, I can objectify – view the situation for what it is, and try to learn what happens when I take action. There is no failure, only learning. I find myself open to taking in new ideas, stepping out of my comfort zone, and growing – instead of fighting desperately to prove myself against a standard that doesn’t even matter.
Most days when I climb, I am climbing new routes in new areas. I could adopt either mindset. Am I here to prove myself, or am I here to explore? Am I trying to acquire a new ability, or prove one?
I think simply recognizing whether today is an “exploring day” or a “performance day” is a game changer. Do I want to have performance days? Sure! But I think the ideal ratio is probably around 1:10. For every ten days out, one should be about performance and the others should be about growth and exploration.
We live in an accomplishment-focused culture. Win or lose. Succeed or fail. Whether it’s homework, a job application, or even just cooking a meal – we’re afraid to “get it wrong.” We’re embarrassed when an idea doesn’t quite work. We’re frustrated when we get stuck on a homework problem. We wonder what’s wrong with us when we don’t get hired. What if, even in these situations, we adopted the “exploration mindset” instead?
After fear comes pride. After pride comes exploration. Be an explorer.
