I’m having one of those days where I’m lost in thought and memories, and wondering, “Who am I?” Well, “I am the climber…” What does that mean, though? Of all the identities I could have, why am I the climber? How did I get to be the climber? Think about it for a moment: Who are you?
I could go by many identities, as could you, if you think about it. On my end, I could be the mentally ill, or the artist, or the musician, or the Veteran, or the marksman, or the blogger, or…you get the picture. You could choose a religious identity. I, though, am the climber. The reason? I find myself, as the climber, being happy. The climber can do artwork and can be spiritual. The climber is learning to manage the mental illness through what he’s become. The climber can make music and dance and be silly, while being deadly serious about the task at hand. The climber can have a military service record and memories of it that will never stop torturing the mind. The climber can be an expert marksman with small arms of all varieties. The climber can blog about experiences and ponderings such as this one… The climber can be in the present moment at its finest for an experience in the vertical world that transcends all other mindsets and physiological states while climbing. That is what the climber craves, for that is peace and pure movement and freedom from the madness below, and that is who the climber is. I am the climber, and the climber is happy.