Out of Office

Gone fishing sign. © anujraj

To be honest, I’m not planning to do any fishing, but I am on a little vacation. I leave you with this story called “The Real Miracle,”* about the 17th century Zen teacher Bankei:

When Bankei was preaching at Ryumon temple, a Shinshu priest, who believed in salvation through the repetition of the name of the Buddha of Love, was jealous of his large audience and wanted to debate with him.

Bankei was in the midst of a talk when the priest appeared, but the fellow made such a disturbance that Bankei stopped his discourse and asked about the noise.

“The founder of our sect,” boasted the priest, “had such miraculous power that he held a brush in his hand on one bank of the river, his attendant held up a paper on the other bank, and the teacher wrote the holy name of Amida through air. Can you do such a wonderful thing?”

Bankei replied lightly: “Perhaps your fox can perform that trick, but that is not the manner of Zen. My miracle is that when I feel hungry I eat, and when I feel thirsty I drink.”

See you next week.

 

*From the highly recommended Zen Flesh, Zen Bones.

You Are Here

You Are Here. The Stone Mind

One of climbing’s greatest benefits is the travel it entails. Most of my friends have been all over in search of great stone: France, Spain, Mexico, Turkey, Thailand, Australia, etc.

It’s not uncommon to grow addicted to this peripatetic lifestyle. We make new friends wherever we roam and depart before the inevitable complications begin to surface. We chase new vistas, sunsets over unfamiliar seas and mountains, the freedom of being untethered. Travel, for many of us, is an escape from the stultifying responsibilities (or at least, they can feel stultifying) of a life lived anchored in place—by job, family, financial obligations…

So it is that we lust after the latest destination. And while great experiences may indeed await us abroad, they are ultimately most valuable as channels into our inner geography.

All places we love are, in a sense, different doors to the inside. Each has a specific feel, a particular ambience, but really the place you end up loving is in your mind more than it is out there. (Consider how easily a place is colored by some joyous or disastrous event—a dull hospital façade’s radiance as the place where your child was born, or the haunted feel of a beautiful meadow where a plane once crashed). In short, much is available to us even when we’re sitting still. In fact, Zen practitioners view the seated position as ideal for accessing the sublime.

In one of his lectures, delivered in the 1969, the Sōtō Zen monk Shunryu Suzuki commented dismissively on the lunar landing, still fresh in the news: “If you [want to] find out something very interesting,” he said, “only way is—instead of hopping around the universe … —to enjoy our life in every minute … to observe things which we have now. … To live in the surrounding in its true sense.” To him, the wildly expensive and time consuming mission to the moon did not bring humanity one step closer to the type of understanding that mattered.

I think Suzuki was perhaps being a bit strict in his reaction, but I guess he didn’t want people getting distracted from the fact that the most important realizations don’t exist out there in the world (or on other celestial bodies)—they cannot be accessed by boat or car or space shuttle.

Still, I think traveling, like pondering zen koans or sitting in meditation, actually can help us better access the internal, if approached with the proper mindset. To focus only on achieving some goal, proving your superiority or escaping some unpleasantness, this is the mistake. But to follow our interests and inspiration to far away places with a love of each step in the process—here I think you can hardly go wrong.

Three Elements of Climbing: Balance, Timing, and Power

Three elements of climbing: balance, power, and timing

As a student, I worked at the university climbing gym with an odd character I’ll refer to as KP. This fellow claimed a disorder that somehow linked his left and right hand; when he gripped with one, the other was compelled to contract sympathetically. To adapt his climbing to his condition, KP developed a unique approach to climbing. He needed to execute moves very efficiently to be able to climb at all.

This approach, in turn, formed the basis of his teaching technique. Balance, timing, and power—these three elements were the building blocks of all climbing movement, KP believed. By mixing and matching them in various degrees, once could achieve the highest level of ability. And like the “four humors” of medical history, an imbalance of any of these elements would impede one’s development as a climber.

I’m not sure I ever fully bought in to KP’s philosophy. Still, there was something to it. It encapsulated some useful truths about climbing and allowed people an entrance into the subtle art of vertical movement. Here, a few thoughts on the three elements, based only vaguely on the ideas KP espoused those many years ago.

Balance – The most fundamental element of climbing is balance. Without balance, we would be flailing and straining constantly. It is the foundation on which everything is built.

Balance is the art of using our skeletons to support our weight under the pull of gravity. When we stand over foot holds on a vertical or slabby wall, we can hold ourselves easily on the smallest of pockets and edges. Our muscles can relax, almost as if we were standing on flat ground. This changes with the angle and shape of the wall, but the basic concept still holds, even if that means we’re balancing the pull of opposing holds against one another on an overhang.

The problem with balance is that moving the center of gravity requires us to exit perfect balance, in which case power and timing come into play. For example, when you go from standing to walking, you immediately begin to fall forward, swinging your leg out to catch yourself before going too far out of balance. In such a case, timing is critical to not falling on one’s face. Which leads us to our next point…

Timing – On a climb, timing allows us to move without relying only on power (strength, muscular exertion) to stay on the wall. A deadpoint is a moment that takes full advantage of timing. At the top of an upward movement, our bodies experience a brief moment of respite from gravity’s pull. Before our mass begins accelerating down, there’s a chance to grab a hold and control it. This is the deadpoint. Grab too soon or too late, and the movement becomes significantly harder to execute. Timing is the thing.

The points in a climbing movement that free us up to move our feet and hands are often fleeting, and a kinetic sensibility and general practice allow us to make the most of them. This is the art of timing. Paired with balance and power, it makes for that effortless style that the best climbers exhibit.

Power  I put power last not because it’s the least important, but because it’s the flashiest of the three elements and therefore can distract from the development of a well-rounded style. Most climbers think the best way to improve is to do pull-ups, lift weight, and hangboard, ignoring the development of balance and timing skills. Strength is the first attribute we cite when describing an impressive climber: “Oh, she’s strong,” or, “He’s a beast.”

One would be well served to focus on the development of balance and timing solely for much of one’s early climbing days, in an effort to become more efficient and controlled. Muscular fortitude will come somewhat naturally as a result of practice, and can then be augmented as needed through training after such good techniques are in place.

The three elements of balance, timing, and power are really inseparable. To develop one without developing the others at all is nearly impossible. But it is certainly possible to rely too much on one at the expense of the others.

A climber who leans on balance too much is often afraid to attempt dynamics, and thus get stumped by anything he can’t reach with a relatively static motion.

A timing-reliant climber will move too quickly, often putting herself out of balance and relying on fast reflexes to stay on the wall—the problem here is that the slightest misfire will result in a sudden descent.

And power climbers, while able to lock off or campus through moves impressively, can easily find themselves in situations where a simple balance shift or a deft dynamic snatch would have yielded the same result with half the exertion, leaving more fuel in the tank for later.

KP’s theory of balance, power, and timing, provides a pretty good framework for addressing individual moves, and I’ve found that martial arts practitioners, baseball pitchers, and golfers, among others, break movement down similarly.

I also feel that one could apply these three elements metaphorically to life as a whole:

Balance is the ability to find one’s center no matter the orientation, to remain relaxed even in challenging contexts.

Timing is needed to move from one balance state to the next. In these periods we are vulnerable to disruption, but we must use timing to our advantage to move in the desired direction. It is often the most efficient way to move from one circumstance to another.

Finally, extreme reliance on power should be used as a last resort. Balance and timing typically allow us to move with greater efficiency, but when we meet a cruxy moment in life and there’s no way around but through, power becomes a necessity.

Even then, the sparing, and wise exertion of power is required, and this understanding is best had when moving from a position of balance.

True Rock Climbing Facts

Here at The Stone Mind, one of our core missions is to shine the unwavering light of scientific research into the darkest corners of the climbing universe. We wish to show things that perhaps would not be evident to the untrained eye. Here, we’ve used the most current sociological methods and also recent exciting developments in big data mining to create new insights and bring them to you in the form of these handy infographics…

What are we doing at the climbing gym?

happening-at-climbing-gymIn a five-year longitudinal study following over 10,000 climbers who frequent the gym one or more times per week, and whose ages, genders, and socioeconomic status run the gamut, we found that the most common climbing gym activity, by a large margin, is socializing, and that a wide variety of non-climbing activities account for the lion’s share of the average individual’s time.

Relative likelihood of dropping a piece of climbing gear

climbing-gear-drop-chancesAdding nuance to Murphy’s Law, which states “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong,” we present this near-perfect linear relationship between the critical nature of a piece of climbing gear and the likelihood that said piece of gear will be dropped. Therefore, if you will need to perform many rappels, you are likely to drop your belay device. If you are facing a long section of technical ice on your summit bid, chances are good that you’ll bobble one or both ice tools. On the other hand, virtually no one will ever drop their Nipple Portable Bluetooth™ Speaker.

Trends in climbing fashion over time

climbing-fashion-trends-chartThe style trends of the modern climber have changed considerably since the 1970s, but as this chart shows, certain items (Spandex pants, headbands or bandanas, and tank tops, for example) are making a strong return to favor. For those who want to stay ahead of the fashion curve, these figures also indicate it might be time to get those work pants and rugby shirts out at the crag again.