It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.
— Edmund Hillary
Perhaps because temperatures soared into the 90’s, or more likely because I have a fascination with the quest of mountain climbing, I immersed myself in the Sundance award-winning documentary Meru and the IMAX adaptation of Into Thin Air. Twice. If I hadn’t spent so many hours getting higher and higher in an air-conditioned theater, I might not have let my September blog deadline slip by. No, I have not climbed Everest – only gazed with awe and wonder at the highest peaks in India, Nepal and Pakistan. Pondering the big questions.
What compels someone to undertake such an irrational act as climbing Everest (29,029’) or scaling Meru (21,667’)? It’s not as if an Olympic medal or pot of gold waits at the top. With the treachery of sheer surfaces, thin air, shifting ice, bottomless crevasses, violent storms and killer avalanches, what fuels this intense desire? Detractors who have never laced up boots or strapped on crampons tend to compartmentalize. Thrill seekers, adrenaline junkies, hubris and fame, they accuse. But I don’t think so.
Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer’s riveting account of the 1996 tragic Everest expedition where eight climbers died, excavates this complex dilemma. A journalist with persuasive writing skills, he allows the reader to experience his story. Exhausted and oxygen deprived, he stands on the summit of the mountain in the first sentence. Rather than handhold us with chronological back-story, he begins in medias res. Flash forwards elevate the tension and flashbacks move the story ahead. Rather than telling, Krakauer provides evidence. He shows – we discover.
Originally commissioned by Outside Magazine to investigate the commercialization of Everest, Krakauer held out to pursue his own quest – to climb Everest. To pursue something more personal, substantive, primal.
I quickly came to understand that climbing Everest was primarily about enduring pain. And in subjecting ourselves to week after week of toil, tedium, and suffering, it struck me that most of us were probably seeking, above all else, something like a state of grace.
– Jon Krakauer
In 1989 soon after I returned from Nepal, I created a layered photographic piece exploring my philosophical journey. State of Grace received a prestigious award, but it wouldn’t be until a year later when I returned from a trip to India I would put it into perspective and grasp the essence of what I had created. And during the course of conceiving this blog post, as if making my way through the Khumba Icefall, I lost my footing several times.
In 2008 Conrad Anker, Renan Ozturk and photographer Jimmy Chin attempted to summit Meru in Northern India, a knife-edge of ice and granite, one of the most difficult climbs in the world. After 18 days, just 100 meters from the top with dwindling food supplies and sub-zero weather, they had to call it off. “The way we approached Meru, and the way we approach a lot of these mountains, is with humility,” says Chin. “Is it going to give us passage? Your mental attitude can affect the outcome.” On their second attempt to climb the sacred mountain in 2011, the trio made the first successful ascent of Meru in history. Equally astounding, Chin shot the footage for the documentary dangling from a rope and a portaledge (a hanging tent) at 19,00 feet!
Drawn to the high stakes of irrational quests, both artist/climbers Krakauer and Chin immerse us in the experience. They calculate the risks, listen to their intuition and head for higher altitudes. With determination and singular focus, they know how to get out of their own way.
As artists/writers we undertake an irrational challenge – a journey into the unknown. Driven by desire for the ineffable, we climb, we fall, wait for an auspicious clue, come at it from an alternate angle, make another attempt.
Most of the time one is discouraged by the work, but now and again by some grace something stands out and invites you to work on it, to elaborate it or animate it in some way. It’s a mysterious process.
– Leonard Cohen
So whatever your Meru or Everest, lace up your boots and get out of your own way. Like Krakauer who “thrilled in the fresh perspective that came from tipping the ordinary plane of existence on end,” clear the debris of daily life and the limitations of the rational mind. Listen to the ether and envision. Stay focused.
A state of grace awaits.
PS In spite of the breathtaking Himalayan cinematography, the film version of Into Thin Air takes unfortunate liberties with Krakauer’s character. He regrets selling the rights to his story so soon after the ill-fated climb.
PPS Fewer people have been on the wall in Meru than on the moon.
Wow Martha I'm climbing with you ….. BTW I have emailed twice but no reply ?? Xxxx
I like the theme of achieving that "state of grace" through pain, persistence, losing footing, re-gaining footing. I think this society (especially the young) see fame and fortune coming (to truly just a few) through weird, unconventional means (Survivor, The Voice, American Idol, etc). and then there's the Kardashians that through sex & notoriety achieved the weirdest celebrity in history! And Kaitlin Jenner! We've become a nation that worships circus clowns….Very few people truly realize SIGNIFICANT feats of achievement. The fact that celebrity of whatever kind always seems to "TRUMP" true achievement (forgive the pun) I find quite pathetic in our modern age. Social media and a general "dumbing-down" of the population has contributed to that. I have always been interested in movies like Wild and Into Thin Air (and might go see "Meru" today) – because the people that really do "SUMMIT" a mountain, or perform a feat alone that defies logic for them (i.e in Wild a single woman walking the CPT alone) – the people who do these things find it as much of an inner quest as an outer one. Myself, I was terrified of doing things alone, as I got into my 40's and 50's I was unmarried, no children, I had waited for my husband but he never materialized – But I wanted to see the world, so I overcame my fears and began traveling alone – Europe, Panama, Kauai, various places inside the U.S. too – I invented excuses to go visit places (having friends there, relatives, etc.) and I got over my fear as I saw it could be done. Now I am moving to another state, buying a house, just sold mine, because I have no more fear because I JUST DID IT. NIKE AD – JUST DO IT – You just do it – and there's a feeling of the Universe watching out for you – overcoming your fears makes you so much stronger. It's the bogeyman in the closet, who isn't really there, or is really not that scary – not a reason not to try, anyway! Also, sometimes, getting something done takes much more time than you thought it would – an endless project that never seems to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but then one day you do – you see daylight, see that you have almost finished, almost achieved your goal. There is a palpable State of Grace in that – finishing a painting, finishing a college term paper (do they even still call it that?) or a very long letter or essay that you pour your heart out into, or helping someone move who has endless things to be boxed up, carried, and brought into a new house. No project of any significance comes easy. There's blood, sweat and tears involved. But the payoff – in the end – is worth it – in accomplishing a goal, something NOTHING OR NO ONE can ever take away from you!! Thanks so much for the beautiful theme this month, Martha!!
When I was a little Christian I saw everyone in my town in my own reflection. Everywhere, everyone I met — neighbors, the grocer, fellow students, co-workers — I found comfort that I was already there. Only as I got older did this seem unnatural, a child’s folly. Still my game persisted. Then I married, then I had a child, years later, another. My mirror not so firm in my grasp held shadows, spots, ruts, hues, a newness I did not remember there, was in want of something too. In plain light, a map of sorts within despite my not having left town.
You did it Martha, you conquered the summit with your words. You achieved a state of grace. Very cool!
As always, beautiful writing Martha. Thank you for encouraging me, from a beginner at writing to completion of a memoir. For taking a lifelong dream to reality. I am still climbing the mountain!
I'm with you, Martha – I'm fascinated with these kind of stories. I read the book "Into Thin Air," watched the television mini-series twice, and saw "Everest" in IMAX the day it came out. There is something so compelling about people who take on these overwhelming challenges. I would put "Wild" and "Man on a Wire/The Walk" and "Into the Wild" in the same category. I live vicariously through their pursuits, and imagine what it would be like to be that brave. I wonder if I would be able to tolerate the physical hardships. I watch the films and read the books over and over. I think it has something to do with overcoming fear. I was a fearful child with an adventurer trapped inside me screaming to get out. Late bloomer. Every time I have done something I was afraid of and "made it out alive," I have become stronger. Not that I have ever accomplished anything as frightening as climbing Mt Everest or hiking the PCT alone, but every baby step helps. And thank the gods for those determined, crazy, noble people who go out there and live the adventures for us. They prove that if you put one step ahead of the other you might just accomplish something incredible.
Hi Martha – I just got back from riding my bike from San Francisco to Santa Monica with 299 other people shepherded by the Arthritis Foundation. There were riders with legs like gazelles who flew up the 'mountains' of Big Sur and their were riders with legs scared from surgeries that replaced joints ravaged by arthritis…and there were many others who 'got out of their own way.' and pedaled 525 miles, 'tipping the ordinary place of existence' on end". Thanks for your blog. So glad I found it. The timing was perfect.
Your writing inspires me to climb my own mountains. Hopefully, one day we will all reach that state of grace.
You always say what I need to hear. I climb with excitement to reach the next level and then stall with self-doubt and clouds all around me. Thank you for inspiring me once again. Time to push on.
Tough enough keeping feet on terra firma. Still digging deep and trying to call a spade, a spade. (sigh).