Capitalism and the rise of Individualism

Isn’t hindsight great? When I look back on my life I can see it full of struggle; to achieve, prove something, get recognition, validation, justification, affirmation. Ever since I was young I was in competition – who’s better, smarter, stronger, taller, faster, more popular. Why did I have such a lack of self-esteem? Why was I not comfortable and happy being who I was?

I took this behaviour all the way through to owning and running a business, on this narrow tunnel of a path that I had to show the world how awesome I was. Successful by all measures of modern society – financially, materially, socially. I recently read the supposition, “Capitalism is Individualism” and I think they’re totally right! I was nurtured as a capitalist, that this is the way of the world and you have to work hard to get somewhere in life. From your own effort you will succeed – it’s all down to you. It seems an increasingly central part of the world these days, enhanced through social media – show how amazing your life is compared to others, the more likes you have obviously means you’re more popular and successful. I’m very guilty of this too, and a product or contributor to it. But it doesn’t really make your life happier does it, and being an individual isn’t really about how great you are at all either.

I had my own business at 25, earning more than I knew what to do with. All my basic survival needs were met, but I wasn’t really happy. I worked long hours, spent my weekends getting drunk so I could distract myself from the real emotional issues I should have been working with. I waxed lyrical about how capitalism is great, it’s a dog eat dog world, how I was striving to secure my future. I thought I was happy; in my mind I was on the elevator to success and happiness. I was trying to complete the game, build an empire so I could stop working, retire early, live off the fruits of my labour. 

But I wasn’t awake, I wasn’t aware of what I was really doing. I was blindly leading myself down a path I subconsciously knew was wrong. I’ve read the books, I’ve seen the films. Money is not the secret to happiness. Material goods aren’t the secret to happiness. Likes and ‘influence’ on social media aren’t the secret to happiness. We’ve all heard it. We all know it. But still we crave it and worship it and chase it.

I finally figured out that money wasn’t the answer I was seeking. So I sold the business, and spent the next 6 years (to the present) in the wilderness, searching for the answer to a question I wasn’t quite sure of. I looked for it through travelling, spending more time outdoors, reading more, listening more. I thought I found the answer – the flow state and began to aggressively chase it.

It gave me wonderful hits of dopamine – but it was only a temporary happiness. I craved it more and more, but it continually only offered fleeting glimpses of the peace and calm that I desired. You see, it’s not the answer either. It’s just another distraction to take you away from the real truth, another obstacle to negotiate and lead you away from the path to real happiness.

The real truth is within us all, we just need to look a bit deeper.

“Everyone you meet always asks if you have a career, are married or own a house, as if life was some kind of grocery list. But no one ever asks if you are happy.” (Heath Ledger)

Update on vanlife and Lyme disease

The point at which things started going really wrong, April 2017

It’s coming up to a year now from when I first started suffering, and I’ve been having acupuncture fairly regularly now for the past 6 months, so I thought I’d write an update.

Most people when they see me ask me how I am, and I sense that it’s not the typical casual greeting. So I answer them honestly without trying to be on too much of a downer. I’m about 80% better – my shoulders and collarbone are still ‘crunchy’ when I move them around, my neck still feels a little stiff at times, I still have sciatica down my right leg, and I’ve still got a fair bit of joint pain/discomfort in my left foot – heel and little toe. I’m a world away from the state I was last year, where I was afraid to leave the house in case something happened, I couldn’t walk even a couple of steps without pain, constant sleepless nights and having to lift my head and provide support to my neck to get myself up out of bed every day! And that’s just the physical stuff, mentally I’m a different person! I have regained mental clarity – I can think straight, I don’t forget words I want to use, I feel positive and confident I can get over this and I’ve even got (very) vague plans for the future!

Going through all this has cemented how precious good health is and how wonderful it is to be alive. It has created focus in my mind that I want to live as true to myself as possible, and those that have negative and nonconstructive feelings and attitudes towards my goals and the way I choose to live and what I value are unnecessary drags on my life. Sure, some might be trying to think of what’s best for me or provide some balance of sensibility to my life but often I think it’s a projection of their own insecurities. Life is to be lived! But also there is not only one truth – you just have to do what you love, FOR YOURSELF. Forget trying to conform to what people expect of you, forget trying to show off to strangers, forget trying to live someone else’s dream. It is your life and you’re the only one who can decide what is right for you.

In terms of vanlife I’ve upgraded to a Hymer, so really it should now be #motorhomelife! I decided that to live in, especially in the UK and when I’m working, that living space is important to me. I want good living space, a proper bed, proper cooking facilities, and a bathroom. I’d always wanted to build my own van, have it exactly how I want it, but that wasn’t happening in my physical state so I looked at this one and it fit the bill. I’m actually so glad I bought this, it’s introduced me to a brilliant community (Classic Hymers on facebook) and I’m now living in something that just works (most of the time!).

It’s pretty cold here now, so I turn the heating on. Simples. I’m making good use of my pressure cooker, which I love as it locks in the nutrients from the food, and I’ve got virtually everything in here, including my skis! It’s left hand drive as well, which I don’t really find to be much of a problem, and it’s a good reminder that I can’t wait to get back out to mainland Europe and do some trips and just LIVE!

It’s easy to fall back into old habits, especially when you have a lot of time on your hands to think. I think a lot about why I sold my business and the direction I wanted to take my life in instead. I had an opportunity present itself to get back into business, and I considered it as maybe it would be a good distraction and even possibly fund the rest of my life. But that is not what I want. I don’t want to be old and retired before I see the world, I don’t want to be burnt out and too tired to explore. I don’t want to wait any longer to grow and nuture my relationship with nature. It’s crazy that it takes such catastrophic events for us to sit back, re-evaluate and understand what is really important to us, but maybe it has to be this way otherwise we’ll never truly appreciate the gift of life.

The main thing that I’ve realised going from a very dark place to living in a van again is how much I need FREEDOM. Freedom to eat what I need to, when I need to. Freedom to move where the universe guides me. Freedom to go for a walk and get some fresh, mountain air. Freedom to see amazing views for myself and exert myself physically, rather than to see everyone else living and becoming resentful for not being able to do the same. Maybe I should have made peace with that and accepted my situation and just lived in the present, but I couldn’t. All the things that I hold so dear to me now (and took for granted) are what now defines me; they’re the things that make me feel alive and happy and I’m not ready to let that stuff go!

Me on top of Napes Needle, Great Gable (Jan 2018)

As Rachel Platten said, “This is my fight song. Take back my life song. Prove I’m alright song. My power’s turned on! Starting right now I’ll be strong, I’ll play my fight song. And I don’t really care If nobody else believes Cause I’ve still got A lot of fight left in me!”

“May the candle that burns you deliver your light.”

A bloody good day out!

Ned working the roof on Quietus

Well it was a bloody good weekend in fact! I’d had a terrible week at work, and really needed to just leave that all behind and decompress. The weather didn’t want to make it too easy for me, because nothing worth having is easy right!?) and so it began with a lazy start on Saturday with plans to hit Burbage North (my first time there actually) mainly to aim for Long Tall Sally (E1 5b) which is on the Top 50 Eastern Grit ticklist that I’ve been working through. Ned also planted a seed for The Sentinel (E2 5b) and then we’d see what else we fancied. 

The Sentinel

After sending The Sentinel (which I was pretty chuffed about) we were having a late lunch and ready to call it a day when someone was wandering along talking about the arête next to us Now or Never (E1 5b) which he’d solo’d years ago and found it pokey and stiff for HVS (hence the upgrade). Danger? Not much gear? Committing? Sign me up! Anyway all went well and we found out later at the Ape Index Hard Grit Live was that this guy was part of that whole scene! Brilliant!

Which nicely leads onto what a weird, inspirational, funny and very, VERY random night it was at the Picturehouse in Sheffield presented by Niall Grimes. The background to these legendary climbs and a peek into what the world of climbing was like back then was more than enough to send my psyche levels sky high, and so after reaching my customary 2 pint limit to get me wasted (due to my Chinese ancestral heritage and general inability to tolerate alcohol and late nights) we packed ourselves off to la la land in eager anticipation of the good forecast for Sunday (with a divinely almighty,Olympian – no HERCULEAN list of Hard Grit routes to aspire to, though chasing these for mere mortals such as us would surely end in broken legs, concussions even death!?)…

The Archangel

And so, with a late start we rolled into Sunday. A day I’d been dreaming (nightmaring) of for over 15 months. Today was the day for me to return to The Archangel. An E3 5b with no gear for the first 10 metres up the arête, and so effectively a solo. A route that I’d tried once before, and fell off about 6 metres off the deck. This is a climb which has got under my skin, has festered in the deep recesses of my mind and cast doubt on my ability. I’ve questioned myself time and time again whether I wanted to give it another go, is the risk worth it, why does it matter to me so much. But anyway, enough of the back story.  I warmed up on Crescent arête, conditions not feeling brilliant, and also a bit midgey. I then almost managed to psyche myself out while waiting for the cavalry (spotters) to arrive – it’s never good to think too much! So after setting up the pads and Wilson ‘the beast’ anchoring in and therefore taking lead spotting duties to try stop me rolling down the hill (!!) I went for it. I took a couple of nervous falls, one of which I knocked my head on a boulder (injury 1) then casually sent it in decent style I like to think, with maybe a bit (a lot) of shouting to myself to relax! Job done, and I felt I was too for the day, but Ned wasn’t going to allow me to bask in that success and so it was over to Calvary E4 6a to try my first of that grade. 

Suffice to say I didn’t onsight it. Even more so I didn’t reach the crux first go, instead taking a controlled fall that had me skimming the ground (as a result of extending my first piece of gear to reduce rope drag as we only had a single) and whacking my heel on a boulder (injury 2) and scraping my back on the same Boulder on the backswing (injury 3). We gave it a few more goes before retrieving the gear and retreating, still with optimism for the rest of the day. Little did we know…

We plodded all the way over to Stanage High Neb for another one of Ned’s now famous sandbags. This time it was Quietus E2 5c, possibly the hardest E2 around! It starts with easy slab climbing up to a giant roof, thankfully through juggy flakes, and into the crux. As to what to do from then…who knows!? There’s 3 hand jamming cracks and we tried all sorts of combinations repeatedly, all the while tearing our hands to shreds before Ned arrived on scene smug and told us to tape up! Lightbulb!

Time was getting on, and my muscles began to ache and lose power. The jams felt more painful. The sun started setting. People were calling it a day. And still none of us could send it. Wilson felt he had more blood to donate to the route rather than the NHS and so he set off for a few more brutal jam sessions (which probably weren’t so bad for him as he’d done a decent job of taping his hands!). He got close…but couldn’t wrap it up. And so we accepted the reality that we would have to abseil down to retrieve the gear.

Ned opted for alternative beta…no-one else fancied it

But wait, I’ve technically not even sent ONE route today! (I solo’d The Archangel). My poor ego, this will not do, not at all. I need redemption! Conveniently there was a slab right next to us, called Impossible Slab E3 5c/6a, which would get us to the top of the crag to ab off over Quietus and get the gear…why not!? What could possibly go wrong!

Another near ground fall that’s what! The first crux is low down and a balancey step up on a thin side pull. I barn doored and fell, got tangled in the rope and finished half a meter off the ground sideways staring directly at Ned! Who promptly burst into laughter because my face must’ve been one of absolute shock and confusion! I quickly righted myself and pulled back on before fear and doubt set in and prepared myself for the insecure smeary mess. This time I got it, in a very touch and go dynamic foot swap hand slap Johnny Dawes-esque moment of brilliance (or luck). 

So that was that. The end to a very successful day of not being very successful. The result of a lot of Hard Grit psyche. Falling off more stuff than a typical day sport climbing! A lot of laughs, hairy moments, questionable jokes, and top off action considering it’s only April! As Ned put, poetically, …a bloody good day out!