I wonder if it is common to run through the scale of emotions I felt while clinging to that rock face. I felt enthralled, nervous, terrified, ecstatic, victorious, angry, frustrated, failure, amazement, jealousy, weak, strong, pain, fatigue. The rock seems gigantic and sheer in my memory, and yet small and inconsequential at the same moment. At the time I felt nothing but my physical grip and mental blocks. Now, I am amazed that I was able to put my toe on a small ledge and hold another with fingertips, and remain---attached to that cliff face.
Of course, if I compare myself to those wonderful, talented, strong souls I accompanied, my feat is nothing. But without comparison, it is of the grandest feats accomplished. In reminiscence, climbing that cliff wall was akin to sailing across the Atlantic, absolutely no land in sight, and if I were to slip off the deck... It is a feeling of awe, not of conquering; it is a feeling of oneness, not of overcoming; it is a feeling of respect, not fear (although I was very fearful of falling). And at the core of motivation to move upward upon this rock, and within my deepest Self; this climb is a battle with limitations physical and mental. That is the hardest to face: although I could overcome many physical limits of strength, agility, and knowledge, I could not overcome my own fear. I could not move beyond that one step, that one reach, and this is what drives me on to try again. Because I know I can, and I am determined to, overcome this silly, irrational fear of heights I acquired a decade back. Because I am determined to become stronger and accomplished at this sport of rock climbing. I am determined to squash with violence that meek voice inside that says "You can't do this, you are too afraid, not fit enough, not young enough..." etc. The voice is only a whisper, and I will quell that self-defeating intimation with a roar of:
"MORE SOJU PLEASE!"
AH HAHA HAHA AH HAHA!