The Unclarity of Clear Creek

Why do I even enjoy or entertain the thought of climbing?  Increasingly I find myself puzzled of my desire, when I often have exasperating days of failure.  Is it really the want to feel the rock as I scale the crags, a knowing that it is something I can accomplish, or merely the need to put myself up for personal collapse and self loathing?

Sometimes I believe it’s only a way to put myself down, but the emotional occurrences brought when your feet are flat on the ground after topping a route can be amazingly speechless.  Beyond almost anything I have ever encountered in my accomplishments of other medians.

So maybe the true question is:  Why can’t I allow myself to realize immense joy?  This question can be applied to far more than just climbing, as well!  How am I ever to find that passion to move along in life, if I pin myself down by fear of true failure.  I’m well aware of the idea to be good at anything you must experience a great deal of trial and error.

In some way maybe I don’t want to face my own expectations of being good at anything.  The pressure of always improving or embarrassment of failure I put upon myself frightens me far more than any chance of death.

The major personality trait I am affected by and holds me back is stubbornness.  Once I even hint at the notion I am incapable of something, I will shut down to the possibilities of pushing past any obstacles laid before me.  I drive myself to the near edge of insanity. I must find a way to break this form of stubbornness, to the kind of never ending push to thrive and overcome.  It seems easy to reach this conclusion in a reflective way of words, but the path to bringing it to a physical reality bares no resemblance of a hard packed trail.  Starting my own way appears than to be the first start of change.

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