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.