3. Flow State
The Send is Now
It’s not just that every day takes a little more off my chalk bag of life—I have to also remember that even if I get more time, there’s no guarantee my mind will stay sharp enough to send the big routes. If I start losing my grip, sure, I’ll still breathe, eat, dream, and move. But will I still be able to read the rock? Will I know when it’s time to push for the crux or bail? That clarity—the ability to see what matters, to know when to commit—that starts fading way before the body does.
So yeah, the clock’s ticking, not just because death is getting closer, but because my ability to fully *be here* might be running out even faster.
The Beauty of the Unplanned Even the unexpected stuff—the rough edges—has its own kind of beauty. Look at a loaf of bread when it cracks in the oven—not part of the "plan," but that’s what makes it delicious. Same with how a fig splits open when it’s perfectly ripe, or how olives get that near-fermented softness right before they’re ready. Even the way a stalk of wheat bends heavy with grain, or the gnarly brow of a lion, or the foam dripping from a wild boar’s mouth—at first glance, they’re not "pretty," but there’s something real in them, something that fits, something that *belongs*.If you can dial in that perspective—if you can really *see*—then nothing in life looks out of place. Even the wildness of nature, even the aging of a body, even the things most people flinch away from—they all carry a deeper kind of stoke.
Legends Fall, So Will You
Hippocrates, the guy who healed so many, got sick and died. The Chaldeans, who predicted so many deaths, still got taken out by fate. Alexander, Pompey, Caesar—they wiped entire cities off the map, they commanded armies, and yet they were still dropped by life like any rookie on an overhung boulder.
Heraclitus, the guy who preached about how the world burns and transforms, drowned in his own body’s fluids. Democritus? Eaten by lice. Socrates? Taken out by some self-righteous haters.
So what does that tell me? I got on this route, I climbed for a while, and soon, I’ll have to come down. Maybe there’s another climb waiting. Maybe there’s just nothing. Either way, no stress. If there’s something after, it’s got to be natural. If there’s nothing, well, at least I won’t be stuck managing this fragile meat-machine anymore.
Stay on Your Own Route
Don’t waste what’s left of your climb worrying about what someone else is climbing.
Every time I get caught up in what someone else is doing—what they’re saying, scheming, or stressing about—I’m just pulling my own attention off the holds in front of me. Why burn energy obsessing over beta for a problem that isn’t even mine?
Stay light. Move with purpose. Don’t fill your head with junk thoughts. If someone suddenly asked, "Hey, what are you thinking about right now?" could I answer honestly without flinching? If not, I’m probably tangled up in stuff that doesn’t serve me—jealousy, ego, competition, distractions. All of that is just extra weight. Drop it.
Real Strength is Inner Strength The best climbers I know—the real ones, the ones at peace whether they top out or take whippers—are like monks in the mountains. They don’t chase the crowd, they don’t talk big, they don’t flinch when things get gnarly. They just *are*.
They don’t waste time trying to impress people who don’t even respect themselves. They don’t let a bad session mess with their heads. They don’t get caught up in praise or criticism, because both are just noise from people who barely know what they’re talking about.
And that’s the way to be. Climb for the climb, not the applause.
Pick the Higher Hold
If I ever start thinking that the easy, selfish route is the "smart move," I need to check myself. If it makes me break my word, abandon my friends, get bitter, fake it, or lose my sense of what’s right—it’s not a win. No matter how tempting it looks, that’s just a loose hold waiting to pop.
A climber who follows their inner balance, their higher instinct, doesn’t need a crowd. Doesn’t need validation. Doesn’t chase and doesn’t run. Whether I get one more season or just one more climb, it doesn’t matter. When it’s time to go, I want to go like I climbed—smooth, controlled, without regret.
Stay Light, Stay Free
A clear mind isn’t weighed down by regret, fear, or lies. The best climbers move clean—not just on rock, but in life. And when their time comes, they don’t bail mid-route in a panic. They top out, satisfied, ready to move on.
So I won’t stress about what’s out of my control. I won’t let my mind get jammed with distractions. I’ll hold my line, move with the flow of nature, and trust that whatever’s next is just another part of the great send.
Because in the end—everything fades, everything resets, everything moves.
All I can do is climb my best while I’m here.
