Too Old to Let My Safeguards Down?

My oldest daughter and I climbing in Muir Valley, KY. 

I suppose there are places jogging strollers can't go, but there mustn't be many. About halfway down the South Trail at Muir Valley in the Red River Gorge, I thought we had found one of those places. Turns out I was wrong. People gave me odd looks as we met on the approach trail-- apparently, a middle aged man with a bright pink jogging stroller must not be all that common of a sight there. The trail was steeper than I remembered, and gosh there were lots of roots. But I persevered, determined to reach the bottom and only occasionally thinking about how much it would stink to lug that pink monster back up to the top. Later. That was a problem to think about later. Right now it was time for our family to climb together. 

Isn't it something, how kids invite us into a world of wonder and innocence that most of us seem to have forgotten? Somewhere along the path from childhood to adulthood, we become "mature," and for the most part we are much worse off for it.

That's why I love climbing so much. I've been climbing things since before I could walk. It started with clambering onto a chair to reach the dining room table. Soon, it was the tall trees on our front yard. I loved the movement of climbing, the freedom, the sense of wonder-- what was I going to see from up there? And I still feel exactly the same way as I move across the rock today. I feel just like a child again. Age slips away. My face lights up, just like my nine year old boy face once did in those trees in my front yard. And that, my friends, is what it feels like to really live!

For me, climbing is the magic that transforms walls from obstacles into affordances. I still remember driving through the Canadian Rockies for the first time. I simply couldn't keep my jaw off the floor. All those astonishingly gorgeous peaks where right there just waiting to be climbed. My body is older now, but I still feel exactly the same way. 

I'm convinced each one of us was created the same way. We all have something that calls out to us, inviting us back into the innocence and delight-filled wonder of childhood. Sometimes, life seems determined to squash that invitation. To be sure, we have adult responsibilities now that must be attended to, but it's a slow form of suicide to let those duties drown out the call of adventure and childhood. Whatever you do, don't let that happen!