Life has been good lately, which I correlate with the general sense of hope in the air. I thought this week would be a good opportunity to just check in and talk about life, and uncomfortably for me, my own climbing. After all, aren’t we pursuing financial wellness as part of a broader plan for a life well lived? What is that, anyway? And have we struck the balance lately?
Let’s see.
WARNING
I know, maybe sometimes I’m guilty of writing “you should be scared” posts like The Long Approach to Being Scared of Investing. But I’m really a pretty nice guy in person (or on the phone) who just cares about everyone’s long-term well-being.
It’s incredibly easy, especially when we’re young, to focus on maximizing now at the expense of later. I’ve heard from a number of readers who’ve come around later in life on the importance of financial stability. Lamenting some younger version of themselves, they find themselves struggling to make up lost terrain and generally stressed out. I built this website to help, with my gaze set on the climber tribe.
We were fortunate enough to stumble upon some key financial and life strategies at the right time. These changes in no small way fundamentally altered the trajectory of our existence. As a result, I occasionally try and crack the whip with a little bit of “you’re going to be hosed buddy” kind of talk through my online alter ego. Sometimes it grabs the attention and plants a seed, and perhaps sometimes not.
But what’s life really like behind the curtain at little ole’ Clipping Chains Enterprises?
Lately: The Big Shift and Acceptance
Since being promoted from Senior Writer and Editor (during down time at my old job, honestly) to Director of Online Affairs at CC Enterprises, I’ve been trying to put a whole lot more honesty into this project.
It’s amazingly easy to lay back in a warm, Epsom salt bath of self-indulgence and wax poetically about the virtues of early retirement. However, I’ve noted how a life of leisure in absence of purpose-driven work will not create happiness. And sadly, the more we wrap our identities in our choices, the more blind we become to the errors of our ways. We slowly and subconsciously build a thick armor of confirmation bias. I spend far too much time considering how many of my choices are based in logic and reason, versus emotionally-laden decisions meant to protect the easily agitated ego from something uncomfortable. Fascinating, right?
I theoretically have almost zero obligations other than to go out and climb rocks and be a decent husband and provider to a 10-year old, easily pleased dog. I am also obligated to change the HVAC filter from time to time, cook some food, and do some dishes. There’s more; I’m kidding, alright?
But me being the long-term worrier that I am, I just can’t ever seem to get comfortable with present goodness; always scanning the horizon for smoke. It’s the same old struggle: I don’t deserve good fortune. There also seems to be a growing trend of good fortune guilt in society, which doesn’t help either. But what’s the point in hiding behind the aspects of our lives that we find enjoyable, at least so long as it’s not at the expense of others? Perfection sure sounds exhausting. So, I try to be a generally good person, recognize that the world is far more nuanced than it seems, and not add too many asterisks to the serendipity that befalls us.
So anyway, here’s a little peek under the hood:
Spring Has Sprung…Again
This spring has been my first opportunity to really focus on climbing. I had a taste of this life in spring of 2020 for only three weeks, just after I (sort of) quit my job and just before lockdowns began in Colorado.
While on the road, I climbed outside almost exclusively for five months, about three to four days per week. But I didn’t feel like my old self. I was bouldering alone in remote areas and in hot conditions. Guilt-ridden, I thought of my wife back in the camper alone or trying to do work nearby in a camp chair. Trying to balance climbing while being on the road with a non-climber significant other chipped away at my motivation. I was simply going through the motions to preserve strength and fitness until I could eventually resettle into a suitable routine for us both (i.e., our new house).
I really thought this would be the dream trip to kick off a new way of life. It wasn’t, which, fueled by the malaise of a never-ending pandemic and all the associated and bizarre partisan divide, put us both in a multi-month slump.
In contrast, the spring season in southwestern Utah has been a true joy. I’ve been climbing outside roughly three days during the work week. I keep a single home wall bouldering and hangboard session for maintenance on the weekend when the crags are busy. The weather is outstanding and the desert is in bloom. Ripe and brilliant flowers contrast beautifully with the harsh and prickly arid environment. People come from all over the country to be here, and almost everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, telling jokes, and having fun.
Even after hate-thrashing on steamy summer boulders for five months, all that bouldering seems to have actually paid off. I hardly tied a figure-eight knot or donned a harness in a year, yet it was fairly easy to return to my previous levels of sport climbing. After a couple of sessions of cobweb dusting, I even made some noticeable gains. The rumors are true: bouldering is the root of all hard climbing.
Emotions and Climbing Lately
Most notably, I’ve simply been enjoying climbing. I’ve been guilty of going off the deep end of obsession at times, taking this sport far too seriously and wrapping my self-worth into climbing performance. Each passing season has me more and more satisfied with the simple pleasures of climbing and less focused on the results. Paradoxically, the results still come when I care less, which is neat.
Don’t worry, this isn’t some sort of old man manifesto about settling into a slow and steady decline into 5.7 trad. I’m still trying really hard. I still train and I’m still trying to be just a bit better each and every day. However, I’m appreciating now more than ever that happiness = 7 either way.
But I still want to send my projects. I admit that I’ve felt a little bit of my old self creep in on certain days when I haven’t lived up to my own expectations. Or worse yet, when I sip the caustic poison of comparison—there are myriad great and experienced climbers surrounding me in this region—it’s easy to feel a sense of unworthiness. And I might have kicked the wall once. Let’s be real.
But it does beg the question: am I still letting climbing performance regulate my emotions? When I’m climbing fairly well, I’m in a good mood. When I’m working harder routes and start to envision the end result, I get agitated and restless. I suspect I’ve got a path ahead of me to truly strike a better balance.
The Locals
Finally, I’ve been exceptionally relieved to get out of my pandemic shell and start hanging out with some locals. Perhaps the biggest challenge of a long-distance move is having to start over socially (a topic I discussed in my interview with the Frugal Professor). I’ve been delightfully pleased to feel welcome here by a group of locals. Hopefully you know who you are, and we are so glad to have you here.
The Other Stuff Lately
Outside of climbing, life is simple by design.
I pulled my old mountain bike out of a ten-year complete hibernation and got that puppy tuned up. Not mountain biking in St. George (at least a little bit) feels like skipping the Eifel Tower in Paris. I met a girl who told me about rushing to go to McDonald’s in Paris once, and I instantly judged her. I’m trying to be better…but McDonald’s in Paris?
I’ve been playing my piano again, which feels really wonderful. After watching the layers of dust accumulate with years of neglect, I considered selling it. I’m so glad I didn’t. I don’t play it enough to be considered anything approaching a “musician” again, but I’m now tapping many more keys than zero. Mrs. CC bought me a cheap, web-based course, which is a good way to tip my toe back in the water. I’d be game for full-on lessons, but I need to feel ready to give it the proper time and attention commitment.
I’ve stopped trying to learn Spanish right now. Something had to go. Lo siento mi amigo.
Oh yeah, I’m fully vaccinated thanks to a one-two punch from der Herr Pfizer. I’ll admit, I’m still unsettled by crowds. I guess I never enjoyed large groups of people to begin with, so 13 months (and counting) of pandemic conditions have set me back on my desire to hang in a mosh pit anytime soon. I’m starting to recognize the irrationality of my concerns, but it’s taking time (~shudders~).
And then of course, there is this website. I spend about 20-30 hours a week either writing or helping folks with their individual needs or questions.
So…
I’ve been considering writing a book for some time now, but I haven’t been moved by the inspiration of a certain subject. While I could lay out in more detail our journey of financial independence, I feel that dead horse has been savagely clubbed for a while by a number of authors and our methods aren’t particularly original. I mean, if you guys want that, I’m game. But I don’t really want to write about my life if I can help it.
The scientist in me really enjoys research. I fancy myself doing some sort of non-fiction deep-dive on a subject. The seed isn’t planted yet, plus I’m finding it hard to step away from the CC Enterprises assembly line. When you’ve been given the heavy task of Director of Online Affairs at CC Enterprises, there comes certain expectations from the hard-driving Board of Directors.
So, if this website means something to you and there’s a subject worth a deep dive, reach out and let me know.
Partner Roll Call
Hi, I’m Mr. CC and I’d like to travel out of the hateful desert heat for as much of June – September as possible.
Would anyone want to meet and climb and fall and curse and drink beers and talk about life? All the usual suspects are fair game: Maple, all of Wyoming, Rifle, and I’d love to check out the Sierras or head back to the Pacific Northwest. I’m looking for 5.11-5.13- routes or maybe some boulders. I even have a very neglected rack of trad gear.
Note: my wife doesn’t climb, so heading out to a backwater crag where Mrs. CC has to sit alone next to a questionable squatter camp in the woods is not a good fit for us. Alternatively, I could do some solo trips for up to two weeks at a time.
Anyway, that’s far too much bloggy-ness for me. Let’s call this good.
How are you guys doing? Is hope really in the air?
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