So this happened....

When I first started to climb it was escapism.... from an abusive home life, from fighting with strangers, from heading the wrong way.
But it was also something much more special. Consequences, so often out of my control, now within grasp. This scariest of things the calmest of things, peace found, a sense of being both less and somehow more.
So hard to explain, harder to understand.

And then, in the days before the Web, I found others who knew how to put it into words, who let me know there was so much more to find, who inspired me to explore, be more, believe. I found them in books - passed from friend to friend, recommended by strangers, treasured still.
Learning to breathe, Touching the Void, Psychovertical.... I think they gave me more than any text book. I can (just about) appreciate Austen and quote Dickens, but they never taught me a thing, never lit a spark, don't sit on my shelves thumbed, creased and loved.
This morning I became a Trustee of the Boardman Tasker Charitable Trust - this evening I listened to six authors read from their work at the Award Ceremony of mountain literatures premier prize to an audience ready to be inspired. Books carry a magic that can last a lifetime.

Philosophy Friday 
Courage is doing only what you are scared of doing. The blatant drama of mountaineering blinds the judgement of these people who are so loud in praise. Life has many cruel subtleties that require far more courage to deal with than the obvious dangers of climbing. Endurance... it takes more endurance to work in a city than it does to climb a high mountain. It takes more endurance to crush the hopes and ambitions that were in your childhood dreams and to submit to a daily routine of work that fits into a tiny cog in the wheel of western civilisation.
Pete Boardman - The Shining Mountain

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