My dad has been visiting me this month and we’ve been climbing together a lot. Back when I was 10 he taught me to tie a figure eight knot and how to be scared to death belaying, and he’s still teaching me today.

Today is a practical message.  It’s for dealing with a moment when you thought you would die. A reminder to do instead of stay cool.

I’ve been hanging out with climbers since I was a little kid. What I’m about to say is born from my silent observations as a shy 12-year-old, to deep conversations murmured over campfires in the wilderness, to the stories my students share with me weekly.

There is no optimum state on my horizon, nor am I there now, nor do I plan on figuring out what it is.

I don’t believe in optimization.

So many people want my secrets for a better head.

What’s the fastest way to get better as a climber? Is it developing strength? It is refining your technique? Is it getting a really hot boyfriend?

Climbers like to think of themselves as functional people.

The Happy and Sad boulder gardens in Bishop were born from fields of ash that flew out of a volcano seven hundred thirty thousand years ago.

Part of what keeps us climbers moving is dreaming about what doesn’t yet exist, what hasn’t already happened.