Episode 35: The Bipolar Ape

 

Humans are capable of acts of such bravery but also, acts of such cowardice from one moment to the next. We’re an amalgamation of programming from genetics and from nature and nurture. And of course, sometimes we’re going to do terrible things and sometimes, we’re going to do amazing and beautiful things. 

Ethan knows that sending near our limit is so beautiful because we’ve addressed this and finally shed our baggage, or we’re just fighting tooth and nail to get to the top, and it can be ugly and gut-wrenching—but that's kind of beautiful, too.

For the Love of Climbing is brought to you by deuter USA, Gnarly Nutrition, Allez Outdoor, and presented by Patagonia.

Music by: Kakurenbo and Chad Crouch. A HUGE thank you to Chad Crouch for creating absolute magic, and to Peter Darmi for mixing this episode.

Cover photo by Kika MacFarlane.

Catch up on podcast (pod-Kath?) updates and general life things: @inheadlights

This podcast is sponsored by BetterHelp. Because therapy is for everyone.

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EPISODE TRANSCRIPT:

- This podcast is presented by Patagonia. Not bound by convention, Patagonia’s in business to save our home planet.

- This podcast is sponsored by deuter, one of the leading backpack brands that will help you hit the trails with confidence and comfort, but most importantly–your snacks.

deuter has a history of first ascents and alpine roots. Their head of product development even climbed Everest once, in jeans (hashtag not fake news.) deuter is known for fit, comfort, and ventilation. Founded in 1898, deuter believes in good fitting backpacks, so you can focus on way cooler things like puppies, pocket bacon, and gettin’ sendy, whether at the crag or in the alpine.

(FEMALE VOICE): Today we’re going to talk about “allez”. “Allez” means “come on!” in a way, or to encourage. Ok! We are done with the simple and normal uses of “allez”, now let’s cut to the chase:

(KATHY KARLO): Allez Outdoor Personal Care products are made by climbers for those who love the outdoors. Their rich and repairing ingredients for their skincare collection are inspired by desert landscapes, and their simple and recyclable packaging makes them eco-sustainable.  Allez commits to protecting the open spaces that we love by partnering with the Access Fund and 1% for the Planet. That’s Allez Outdoor: “A-L-L-E-Z”). Allez Outdoor—made by climbers, for those who love the outdoors.

- This podcast gets support from Gnarly Nutrition, one of the leading protein supplements that tastes “whey” better than they need to, because they use quality natural ingredients. So, whether you’re a working mom who runs circles around your kids on weekends or an unprofessional climber trying to send that 5.13 in the gym, Gnarly Nutrition has all of your recovery needs.

The only question you need to ask yourself is: Are you a sucker for anything that tastes like chocolate ice cream? (Yeah, me neither.) Gnarly Nutrition is designed to enhance your progress—and taste like a milkshake, without all the crap.


(ETHAN PRINGLE): I heard this term once on a podcast. It’s the “bipolar ape”—and humans are the bipolar ape. Like, we are capable of acts of such bravery and acts of such cowardice, from one moment to the next. You know? And I think that understanding that allows you to give everybody the benefit of the doubt.

And also, just understand we’re just this amalgamation of programming from genetics and from nature and nurture. And, of course, we’re gonna sometimes do terrible things. And, of course, sometimes, we’re gonna do amazing things.

I just trip out sometimes on how polarizing these qualities can be in people. You know, the bravery and the cowardice and just how extreme those two things can be in a single person. Like, some of the things that my dad has done—on both ends of that spectrum. I mean, you see it all the time. Like, in celebrities and public figures and politicians and stuff. Like obviously, Trump, I’m assuming—

(LAUGHS)

—we both think that Trump is one of the most vile human beings that we’ve ever looked at or heard speak, but he really does bring a certain group of people together. You know? I mean, I’m not saying that’s necessarily a good thing, but maybe some of those people feel less alone or something and—maybe Trump’s a bad example of that, but—

(LAUGHS)


(KK): No, I like where this is going!


(EP): (LAUGHS)

But there are some people who can display qualities so far to either end of the, I guess quote, unquote “good, bad”, “positive, negative” spectrum. And oftentimes, you see that. Like, you see people who can really bring people together and can really tear people apart and can be generous but also really selfish. And yeah, I mean. That’s just part of being human.


(KK): And it’s a really good reminder that at the end of the day, in the moral domain, we aren’t the worst things we’ve done. And we’re also not the best things we’ve done. 

Ethan’s understanding of this comes from thirty-six years of life—observing and questioning individual internalizations, and allowing himself the space to un-define his belief system to better reflect who he is, outside of societal norms and conditioning. 


(EP): And I feel like most people, especially when they’re looking at themselves, they tend to focus more on the worst things, unfortunately. I mean, I certainly do at times. You know, it’s like, on one end, you’re like, “Oh, I’m so awesome!” and then, there’s this self-admiration that happens. And then, on the other end, there’s like, “Oh, I’m such a piece. Like, look at all these horrible things that I’ve done.” You know?


(KK): Yeah, that’s something I really wanted to ask you about, ‘cause you’ve talked about this self-criticism, and tell me if that’s not accurate. But what is your relationship with these feelings and thoughts?


(EP): (INHALES)

I mean, I think that they’re like most other feelings and thoughts. They arise and they disappear—

(PAUSES)

—like the tide. I think that I have a sort of natural disposition toward self-criticism and self-hate. I’ve observed it a lot in my parents, especially my mom. And I think that there are people that are born with different baselines of joy and happiness and maybe even other qualities like narcissism, like self-admiration, like self-criticism—like anxiety, blah, blah blah.

And I think that I was, unfortunately—or maybe not unfortunately—was born with a healthy dose of this sort of self-criticism, self-hate cocktail. And I like to think of it that way ‘cause I think people are so fixated on using these labels that have definitions and they’re so sort of rigid. And people—and people’s chemistry—they’re just so complicated.

Like, ok—maybe there have been times in my life where I’ve been depressed. Maybe depression is an ongoing thing for me. But I don’t know if I wanna be grouped in with everyone else that way, you know? My sort of muck that I deal with is so unique, to me, and when I say the word “depression” in my head, I don’t know if I relate to it that strongly.

I don’t know—I guess I don’t even really know what it means. I don’t think, “Oh, yeah! Depression. That’s what I have.” It’s more like, “Well, it sorta feels like this, and I can describe it in one hundred to one thousand words, but just one word is completely insufficient.”

I’ve always felt a certain darkness, I guess—even when I was a kid. But I think depending on what’s going on in my life obviously, the self-hate, self-criticism stuff can feel stronger or weaker. And like I said, some of that is just my natural disposition. But I think that the positive side of that is that it’s helped me become a sensitive human being and develop capability to empathize with others and sympathize with others and be a good active listener and sit with other people’s—

(PAUSES)

—inconvenient feelings, because I’ve had to spend so much sitting with my own.


(KK): You’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast. This is not a climbing podcast. Well, sorta. This is a funny, sad, and somewhat uncomfortable podcast about choosing vulnerability and talking openly about our pain. This podcast is presented by Patagonia. Here’s the show.


(EP): Is it—is it the ones in front of my house?


(KK): Oh, I don’t know. Do you have wind chimes?

(LAUGHS)

Yeah, it’s definitely those.

(WIND CHIMES TINKLING)


(EP): I just need a rubber band.


(KK): Sorry, I’ve got so many high demands here now.


(EP): That’s my mom.


(KK): Hi!


(ETHAN’S MOM): Hi there.


(KK): How are you? I’m Kathy.


(EP): —This is Kathy.


(ETHAN’S MOM): Hi, sorry to interrupt!


(KK): No, you’re fine!


(ETHAN’S MOM): I’m just showing the kitten the outside.

(ETHAN AND KATHY LAUGH)


(KK): Oh, I love it! Your house is so beautiful, by the way! I rolled up and I was like, “This is such a beautiful neighborhood.”


(ETHAN’S MOM): Thank you!


(KK): Yeah!


(EP): My mom is beaming with pride right now because she really is quite proud of the house.


(KK): Well, it was nice to meet you!


(ETHAN’S MOM): You, too. Take care.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)


(EP): Of course, my mom comes out with a cat in her arms.


(KK): You know, the podcast really does have a lot of high demands these days, like can you please rubber band your wind chimes and also—bring your mom’s cat to the recording sesh.

You might already know who Ethan Pringle is. He’s a professional rock climber based out of California, and he’s done some pretty impressive things both on and off the wall. Like one time, he rode an inflatable pizza off of an iceberg.

But the thing that’s stood out to us the most about him over the years is his unreserved honesty. And not just his online candor, but how he carries himself in all corners of life. As we do with all of our interviews, we met in person. So, I hit up Pinole in the summer of 2021.

You might already know who Ethan Pringle is. He’s a professional rock climber based out of California, and he’s done some pretty impressive things both on and off the wall. Like one time, he rode an inflatable pizza floaty off of an iceberg. But the thing that’s stood out to us the most about him over the years is his unreserved honesty. And not just his online candor, but how he carries himself in all corners of life.

As we do with all of our interviews, we met in person. So, I hit up Pinole in the summer of 2021.


(EP): My name is Ethan Pringle. I am from San Francisco, California. And—what am I doing in life?

(LAUGHS)

Well, I just spent most of the summer here in California, and now I’m headed off to Europe for a month.


(KK): When I first started doing interviews, I used to ask people to describe themselves. But I think it was kinda halfway through the second year of podcasting (pod-kathing? Pod-kathing.) that I thought it would be kinda cool, kinda interesting to ask people how somebody close to them would describe their character instead.

And I started doing this because we probably see ourselves in a totally different light. The shift in answers u started getting was kind of awesome.


(EP): (LAUGHS)

Oh, boy.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Ok. Well, at the risk of sounding conceited or narcissistic, here we go!

(LAUGHS)

I think—

(EXHALES)

—the person that I’m thinking of would describe me as thoughtful, as sensitive, gentle, and hopefully, generous, I guess. I actually just got a note today with some of those words in it. So, I have physical proof that someone out there thinks those things of me, actually. But I would say that seems pretty accurate.

So, my identity. Do you want adjectives or do you want building blocks or—?

I mean, I feel like I put myself out there as accurately as possible on social media. But then again, we’re always kind of putting our best foot forward, or we’re always sort of portraying ourselves in the way that we wanna be seen by other people.

But I think one part of my life that I have talked about on social media but I don’t put it out there a ton is that I’ve been a caregiver for my dad for the last eight years—part-time. It’s not like I’m his only caregiver. In fact, I only go—especially these days, I only go every once in a while. But, for a long time for a good number of years, I went pretty often—weekly. And yeah, I think that that has become a big part of my identity.

But before that, I grew up in the city—in San Francisco, which is a beautiful and diverse city and that definitely shaped me a lot. And also, was lucky enough to spend a ton of time in nature—in the outdoors. Camping, hiking, biking, snowboarding—and then climbing. And those experiences really shaped me. But I think they partially, and other factors too, made kind of me hate school. 

(LAUGHS)

I mean, being stuck in a classroom just always paled in comparison to being outside and doing things with my body and interacting with nature and stuff. And I was always a fairly irresponsible student, but fortunately, I fell in love with reading. So, that kind of saved my brain, in a way.


(KK): That’s awesome.


(EP): Yeah.

(CLEARS THROAT)


(KK): What are you reading right now?


(EP): I started a book in Costa Rica that I didn’t finish. But it’s one of Jasmine’s favorite books. It’s called “The Glass Castle”. It’s actually a memoir written by this woman who had a really unconventional upbringing where her parents sort of were these crazy, kind of eccentric people who they were almost like drifters—they went from one town to another around the western United States.

And a lot of these towns actually are places that you would recognize being a climber—almost like truck stop towns in the middle-a nowhere. But I haven’t finished that book yet. I haven’t been carving out a ton of time for reading lately. Maybe that’s something you hear a lot.

(BOTH LAUGH)

(INHALES)

My dad was always really pretty gregarious and outgoing—always super friendly with everybody. He was an elementary school teacher for thirty-five years in San Francisco. And I think, for the students that were really attentive and were there to learn and be good students—he was their favorite. And then, for the students who cut up a lot—

(LAUGHS)

—who were maybe a little bit more like me, he was maybe their least favorite—‘cause he could be sort of like a disciplinarian. But he was always super adventurous. He biked across Europe, I think after he graduated high school, and he worked at a hospital in Germany—so, he knew a lotta German. And then, he did a year in the Peace Corps—maybe two years in the Peace Corps in Venezuela. So, he’s fluent in Spanish.

And I don’t know, I mean, later in life, he would just stand outside of our house and strike up conversations with random people or if he went on a bike ride to the Embarcadero, he would just meet some random tourist people. And maybe if one of them was looking for a place to stay in San Francisco, they’d end up staying in our house or something—

(LAUGHS)

—you know? So, he was always really outgoing and really friendly. I think he showed me how to move through the world with confidence, especially in the outdoors, but just interacting with people, too. And I think he gave me some of my first examples of what taking responsibility and apologizing when you’ve done something wrong looked like. So, that was a valuable and impactful gift that he gave me.

And when I was six, I really wanted to try snowboarding. And this was at a time where they just didn’t even make equipment for kids my age. Snowboarding was so new that there were just no other six-year-olds snowboarding, but I really wanted to try it.

And I asked him if we could go, and it was the middle of the week. And he taught at the same school that I went to. And he was just like, “Sure! Let’s go. Let’s go tomorrow.” And he called in sick, got a substitute teacher, and we both went to Tahoe for the day together and both of us had our first day of snowboarding together.

And so, he was just that kind of dad. I mean, he was amazing. Like, on the scale of kind deadbeat dads to amazing dads—he was pretty high up there. And, of course, he grew up in the fifties so, he kinda came from that era of men where they don’t really share their feelings that readily. And they’re more avoiders than sharers and—

(INHALES AND EXHALES DEEPLY)

—you know, he did a fair amount of that, sadly. And I’ve spent my whole life with him, and in some ways, I feel like I barely know him. I feel like some parts of himself, he will just never show to anybody, which is obviously super tragic and I can’t imagine how isolating that is. And I think that much later on in life, I think it sort of helped him develop a little bit of a victim complex.

But I saw him bottling up emotion. I saw him bottling up anger. And so, I had some amazing examples of what a man can look like and I had some sort of less desirable examples but overall, I’m just so thankful that I had him as a dad.


(KK): The old adage that “being vulnerable is weak” still pervades. And yet, it’s an interesting time. More and more men are turning inward to deconstruct some of their programming and the persistent idea that feelings are a “female thing”.

Historically, men have been taught to reject things like sensitivity or expression of emotion, which ultimately leaves them without the tools to cope with internalized anger. These traits inevitably get passed down for generations, so where does one even begin to break these kinds of cycles?

Because it’s almost naive to believe that simply telling guys “it’s ok to cry” would be enough to undo generations of enculturation. Because self-examination sucks. And vulnerability can be downright ugly.

And I’m not talking about “controlled vulnerability” like, when we open up just enough to give people a small glimpse but, in actuality, are holding back in fear of oversharing or judgement. I’m talking about the stuff that will split you open and involve a lot of ugly crying and maybe, probably, therapy. But Ethan knows this because, growing up, he had witnessed two sides of his father.


(EP): And I feel like I had some examples of what men can be capable of—like, some really positive examples. And I had some examples of maybe things to avoid as a man, like bottling up your anger and bottling up emotions and stuff. And I’ve noticed that I have a little bit of that programming in me, too.

But I didn’t really have the language or the capability to sort of understand how my parents were and how my dad was, and the ways in which I was being impacted by those behaviors and their own programming and stuff. And I think—

(CHUCKLES)

—being in your late twenties and thirties is all about unpacking all of the baggage and stuff that you inherited from your parents. And I think that it can be a painful and also, maybe a sort of fun exercise to just look within yourself and be like, “Oh, wow! That is where that came from.” And yeah, I think there were definitely experiences that stood out as a kid that I really gained a lot from, and I remembered them because they were so impactful.

But I didn’t really understand the impact that they had—like, taking the day off to go snowboarding, or seeing my dad offer up sincere apologies to people, or seeing my dad’s bravery interacting with strangers and not being afraid to communicate, but being afraid to communicate his feelings to close people. Yeah, I think these are things that you just kinda notice when you’re a kid, but you don’t really realize how much of an impact they’re having.

And being introduced to the outdoors and then, falling in love with climbing at a young age was obviously one of the biggest gifts that life has ever given me. And then, I like to think that my dad’s stroke and this sort of “opening” that I’ve experienced because of that is the other big gift that life has given me.

Before my dad’s stroke, I don’t think I’d ever really had cause to experience true heartbreak in an up close and personal way. And if you allow something that tragic and that painful to sort of penetrate, it changes you in an irreversible way. And it’s sad because I feel like a lot of people—even if they have some close, personal source of tragedy or heartbreak—a lot of people are so armored up against feeling sadness and feeling heartbreak that they might not even let it penetrate. 

And I didn’t—at least, for the first few months after his stroke. I think I was just too busy going through the motions of worrying about him and taking care of him and being by his side and stuff. But then, eventually, I sort of was given space and I was encouraged to sort of ask myself if I was ok.

I sort of took a deeper look inside myself than I had ever taken before and realized that there was this whole well of emotions that I had sort of just been ignoring my whole life. And seeing my dad’s situation and how tragic it is and just how diminished his quality of life is sort of allowed me to look at a part of myself that I’d never seen before.


(KK): Ethan’s dad’s stroke marked the first day of the third phase of Ethan’s life, as he likes to call it. The second phase was when he discovered climbing and the trajectory of his life changed forever. And then it changed again, after he discovered his dad on the floor of his bedroom, having suffered a massive, right-hemisphere stroke on the evening of September 4th, 2013.

Ethan wrote that the paradox of suffering is that in order to be released from it, we have to first accept it. Surrendering is when we open up—that’s the “opening” he often refers to. And, as it turns out, love and self-compassion are what’s inside.


(EP): (INHALES)

People are so used to trying so hard to appear ok that they don’t even really ask themselves that question very seriously. And, I mean, I think that it takes a certain amount of effort to sort of look within your heart and feel what an impact life has had on you, and maybe what an impact you’ve had on yourself. 

And, you know, I’d never really given myself this sort of compassion that I was forced to when I was forced to give my dad that same compassion or whatever, you know? And that “opening” that I experienced—

(SNIFFLES)

—that I experience every time I allow myself to feel how tragic my dad’s situation is—that’s a feeling that I just didn’t know existed before. But that’s as close to true love as I’ve ever felt. And I think that the most in love with the universe that I have ever been is when I can just feel the impermanence of it all and the sadness of it all, and it’s all sitting right there in the same place.

And what I’m dealing with is chronic grief. It’s not like I really had that term before. But in most ways, he’s gone. He lost the use of his body and the better part of his mind and most of his humor and every month, every year—a little bit more of him slips away. And it’s just like, he’s still there with physical presence, but beyond that, there’s not much of him left. And I—that’s something that—

(CLEARS THROAT)

—that I get to sit with—every day, if I want to. Which, yeah—is a gift. I mean, sometimes going through the motions of taking care of him or just feeling sort of how hopeless his situation is can be difficult, but the other side of that is that—

(SNIFFLES)

—it’s opened me up like nothing else has. And understanding the ways that he’s influenced me, both positively and negatively, and carrying on some of the better qualities that he lived when he was able to do that. Which I think one of his biggest values was just kindness—just being kind to other people. So, I think that’s something that he passed onto me and that’s one way that I can honor him—is just to be kind to other people and—no matter who they are. If it’s a stranger or if it’s a close person and—

(CLEARS THROAT)

—talking to strangers and interacting with strangers and just not being afraid to talk to people and say hi to people and include people in the conversation, I think, is another way that I can honor him. And just making people feel less alone, I guess.

And also, just not being so afraid in life. He was one of the first examples of someone that I saw living with a lot of bravery. And he was just so unafraid to snowboard through the trees on powder days or get on his bike and ride for a really long way or get on his windsurfer and ride into the windiest conditions in San Francisco Bay. And just living with that sort of bravery, I think, is another way to honor him.

Of course, in some ways, he was like a superhero to me. And now that I’ve gotten older and I’ve become an adult and I can sort of look back on some of the things that happened when I was a kid and there’s stuff that I just can’t talk about in a public sphere because he could be monstrous. And I think that that’s so human, you know? And there are certain things that when I found out, I was like, “Wow. For a moment here, I don’t know if I can keep loving this person.”

And that moment passes and I say, “Of course, I can.” But this idea that someone can be so brave, but also, maybe cowardly in some ways or open to strangers, but also, so closed off in other ways. Or do really generous things for other people, but also, do really monstrous things to other people. And I think that that’s just so human.


(KK): We’re gonna take a short break. We’ll be back.

 

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(LOR SABOURIN): What else am I doing? 

(LAUGHS)

I’m making a film project right now.

Blake is a climbing partner of mine and one of my first friends in Flagstaff—someone that I’m really close to. And Blake, at one point, asked me to come over to the Tourist Home, which is a coffee shop in Flagstaff. And he was like, “So, I wanted to pitch a film idea to you,” and I was like, “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

And he’s like, “So I wanna make a film.”

And I was like, “About what?”

And he’s like, “About you!”

And I was like, “Oh…That’s interesting.”

And at the time, we thought it was gonna be this really small thing. I was like, “Oh he’s gonna make this ten-minute film about me rock climbing and that sounds cool.” And I kind of agreed to do it because I was kind of exploring what it would mean to be more open about my identity—especially in the climbing world. And I thought it could be a cool way to just be a little bit more visible and share that with other people.

And it’s turned into a big thing now—

(LAUGHS)

—it is not a ten-minute film. And I think that because there’s a really big exploration process with gender when you’re trans—that sometimes people will think that what you’re trying to communicate is who you are, when really you’re just communicating another aspect of what you are.

It sounds kind of out there, like nebulous, but it actually isn’t. It’s just like, everyone knows they have just a core human inside of them that doesn’t need anything else to define it.

(KK): Go to Patagonia.com/climbing, or visit the Patagonia YouTube channel to watch “They/Them”, streaming now.

 

(EP): What’s the definition of chronic grief? I think chronic grief is a specific kind of grief that stems from a source in your life that is constant. And, for me, it’s my dad’s situation after his big stroke in 2013 where he was left wheelchair-bound and bedridden, at this point. But it’s a loss that you’re reminded of every day.

If a loved one passes away, you feel grief and it might even be chronic—especially if there’s constant reminders of the person or if you’ve had a kid together or something. And I don’t know, maybe all grief is chronic. I know a lot of really wise people who study this stuff say that you don’t move past grief—you move through it. You move with it. You learn to live with it and stuff. So, maybe in that way, all grief is chronic.

But for me, I’ve bared witness to my dad’s situation for the past eight years, which is extremely tragic to me because he’s my dad and I love him. And if I care to think about his situation acutely, I’m always brought to tears by it. And after he passes, that might not be the case as often because when I think about him and I think about his situation, I think about him alive—but in this really diminished state.

And when someone passes, obviously it’s sad and people grieve and maybe that grief lasts a lifetime and they carry it with them forever. But I think when you have that source that’s constant, I don’t know. It’s a little bit different. I also trip out about how when I do think about him, I am projecting and I don’t really know what it’s like to be in his body and in his mind and just be trapped in those places.

But what breaks my heart—the tragic part—is the imagination of it. You know? The thought of what it could be like. And I’m sure it’s different—maybe it’s worse. Maybe it’s not as bad, and I’m reacting to this story that I’m totally just imagining. I mean, obviously, I can see him in front of me and he’s like my child now. He’s like a two-hundred-pound baby, basically. 

(LAUGHS)

And he gets tired and he gives up and it’s extremely heartbreaking. But I’m also just like, “Maybe it’s not as bad.”—maybe he’s so diminished that he just can’t even tell how bad it is or something.

I actually had a grief counselor who I haven’t seen in a little while. I might start talking to her again, but she lives in Boulder and I was seeing her remotely for a while and then, I was seeing her in person for a while. And she’s amazing. I mean, it’s funny. We have sort of similar situations.

Her husband got into a car accident and now he’s—I think he’s a paraplegic and she is a caregiver for him. Not quite his main caregiver, but always there for him and stuff, obviously. But she does these grief rituals and events surrounding grief and just personal counseling and stuff. And it’s been great to talk to her—although, I feel like a lot of what we talk about ends up being relationship stuff and—

(LAUGHS)

—of course, the more immediate stressors. And I don’t think I have the same hesitancy toward it that a lot of men do or especially older men or whatever—or just people in general. I mean, I feel like, for a lot of people, going to therapy feels like admitting that you have a weakness or something like that. And I really don’t think that.

But I think a lot of the time when you need therapy the most is when you feel the impulse to hide the most. And so, I think, in that way, therapy can feel like a big leap of faith or something. Because the process of finding somebody and scheduling with them and then opening up to them—telling them your life story. And also, people just have the impulse to isolate themselves when they need to be with somebody or seek counseling the most. 

(KK): The annoying truth about therapy is that it doesn’t fix you. (I know! Then why is it so dang expensive?) But it isn’t like with medical treatment where you can come up with a plan to treat and eliminate an illness. Therapy is the guide, not the be all, end all solution to your problems.

And friends? They’re great. We all need that someone who’s willing to last-minute ditch work and drive six and a half hours to see Kesha in the middle of nowhere-Oklahoma because you cannot put a price on Kesha. But there are also a few other things to consider—does this person have the mental capacity to have this conversation? 

And, maybe most important of all, a reminder that a friend is not a therapist. Unless your friend is actually a therapist, in which case, you might owe them dinner. But typically, these two things simply don’t occupy the same space. Two scenarios can play out: if someone is always listening and absorbing all of our stress and grief, it’s really hard for them to feel like they’re getting their own needs met—or a person can develop a “fixer mentality”.

(EP): I do think that the phenomenon of people going straight to the fixing part of a conversation—where one person says, “This is what I’m feeling, this is what I’m dealing with,” and the other person immediately offers up a solution is definitely a product of the society we live in with all of its individualistic values and values around success and all of that. And also, just toxic masculinity—which is obviously a big part of our society.

And it’s funny because a couple of the romantic partners I’ve had tend to be more on the fixing side when I communicate my feelings. And ah, man! It’s hard for me. I think that I really want the active listening treatment and—it can be hard, obviously, in relationships. You know, that’s a whole ’nother dynamic.

Especially if the person being forced to listen is hearing something that feels potentially threatening or critical or whatever. That’s obviously—it’s understandable. But I think just in general, in our society, it’s so hard to find people who can simply just sit with your feelings.

(KK): Jumping to the “fixing” part of a conversation can be an easy way to neglect our own needs. You can fix everything from cars to kitchen appliances, but that doesn’t work with emotional problems. The easy fix-it-all approach that can come from both men and women limits our ability to relate on a deeper level.

The need to get rid of negative emotions often exists out of love and not wanting to see people that we care about hurting. But for many, it just winds up feeling dismissive—and most people just wanna be seen.

The question is: are men more often hardwired towards the “fixer” trope? Is the compulsion to fix things an expression of masculinity? How do we reframe that without casting masculinity as toxic itself?

(KK): ‘Cause I actually don’t wanna talk about toxic masculinity!

(EP): (LAUGHS)

(KK): I actually, I wanna ask you—

(EP): I said your trigger word.

(KK): In addition to “toxic masculinity” my other trigger words and phrases are: “marketing strategy”, “he’s a nice guy” and “let’s circle back next week”. 

(EP): Positive masculinity—let’s talk about it. I think that it is a beautiful thing and I think that, as a society, we’re probably seeing a shift toward it. But I think there’s a lot of programming to undo. I mean, there’s a lot of programming to first just address and talk about. You know? That’s the first step.

But classically, it’s not ok for men to admit they’re wrong. So, that has to change—’cause men are wrong a lot of the time.

(LAUGHS)

Classically, a lot of this stuff is just passed down from father to son for generations and generations. But I think that we need to be teaching boys how to apologize and take responsibility when they’ve hurt someone’s feelings—no matter how right or wrong they think they are. I think that’s really, really important.

And we need to be teaching boys that it’s ok to feel insecure in your own skin. I think that the sort of avoiding or burying of fear and insecurity is such a big contributor to the problems that we have—globally, I would say. You know, we need to be teaching boys that it’s ok to feel sad. That it’s ok to feel regret! That it’s ok to feel ashamed sometimes—and that you don’t have to transform those feelings into anger.

But society perpetuates this expectation that anger is acceptable, but sadness, shame, insecurity, guilt, weakness—anything but success is to be avoided at all costs. And so, I think that we just need to be teaching young boys how to be people! You know—how to be human beings that have emotions, and that quote, unquote “negative” emotions or “inconvenient” emotions are not just acceptable, but there to teach us something. 

It’s the ones that we’re taught to avoid, basically. But Western society really encourages people in general, but men in particular, to not feel all those “inconvenient” emotions like sadness and guilt and insecurity. I mean, men have such a hard time admitting they’re ever insecure—but I know that there isn’t a single man on earth that hasn’t felt that, at some point. Nor is there a single man on earth that hasn’t felt fear.

But we’re just taught to be right all the time and basically, we’re taught that anger is ok. So, all of these other emotions that are sort of “weak” and not “manly” and maybe “feminine” or whatever—transform into anger.

(EXHALES)

And one of the things that sort of bugs me about American culture, in general, is this shaming thing. And people aren’t gonna wanna change if you tell them that the way they are isn’t ok. They’re just gonna get defensive.

And I think, especially for men, we have to establish that the way we are is maybe kind of fucked up and damaging to society. Because then we can talk about it, and we can start to address things and we can do the work to undo some of this programming.

And I think that it’s still a conversation that people are largely avoiding—that society is largely avoiding. But it would do well to address it sooner, rather than later because I feel like a lot of the problems that society faces stem from these issues—stem from people, but definitely, particularly men, avoiding feeling anything but pride or rage, basically. And it makes men ignorant assholes, basically. To say it bluntly. 

(KK): Patriarchal norms affect all genders—male, female, and non-binary. And while many of us outwardly condemn toxic masculinity and the patriarchy that causes it, the ideology has been so deeply conditioned within that it can be hard to recognize.

Such as—we’re not always as ready as we think we are to receive a man who’s fully open and expressive of his emotion. We say we want the “nice” guy, a “sensitive” guy—but then he’s too “emotional”. And it’s because women are just as conditioned to accept harmful cultural norms.

But because women can play a role in patriarchy, it also means that we have an opportunity to change it. Hey, ladies. What’s up? Breaking down the patriarchy can look like a lot of things. It can be protests for change or sitting with our favorite guys and making space for their emotions. But breaking down these dynamics starts within, and that means each of us checking ourselves to recognize some of our own programming and unconscious bias.

(EP): Men aren’t the only ones that have programming of toxic masculinity. I know plenty of girls who have some of those same qualities, and it’s just rampant throughout humanity. So, it’s in all of us, and having examples of men that can behave in a different way and maybe display qualities that are classically more “feminine”—but are actually just more human—would be helpful. 

Because it’s just crazy how deep the programming goes. It’s in me, it’s in every guy that I know. And I think that a good first step would just be allowing men to say I love you to each other and give each other hugs and genuinely be there for each other.

And being better active listeners, being more sensitive to one another’s needs, being more sensitive to one another’s feelings—admitting that they have feelings in the first place. These are all things that we should be doing.

(KK): In October 2020, Carlo Traversi completed the first ascent of “Empath”, a slightly overhanging 65-foot tall granite climb in the Tahoe region. Everything about the climb from the rock to the features of the climb to getting to it is distinctively remarkable—but perhaps the most unique thing about it is in its name.

Carlo says that: “An empath is rare in today’s world”—and that couldn’t ring more true. “In some small way, I hope the name inspires more people to work towards being more empathetic of others.”

(EP): Empath is in the Eldorado National Forest. And you drive up this ridge-sort-of-thing and it kind of feels like the landscape drops off and opens up to either side. So, it’s like rock and forest as far as the eye can see and then, some alpine peaks in the background.

And kind of before you get to the real alpine-feeling area, you pull off the main road and drive on this dirt road a little bit through the forest and there’s boulders everywhere—big and small. And the hike takes you through forest with these tall redwoods and pines. And there’s this beautiful river at the bottom of this valley and it’s kind of at the bottom of this canyon thing.

And then, Empath itself—the wall that it’s on is sort of north-facing, and I think it retains water for a lot longer than it otherwise would. I think because of that, the quality of the rock on that cliff is really bullet. And Empath itself sits on this kind of little prow of overhanging rock with all these really amazing crack water runnel things that streak down the face. And so, it’s almost like these slopey cracks and tufa pinch type of features.

And as soon as you pull off the ground, it’s kind of in your face and it’s sustained. But at the top, the angle steepens a little bit and there aren’t any rests for twenty feet straight or something. And that was definitely my crux—was from the last rest to the anchor. And that was also where I fell when I fell into the tree and broke the tree branch with my leg.

(LAUGHS)

Yeah, that was like, a little bit of a traumatic event. I think I actually had a sort of profound thought about it afterwards, which was that—

(INHALES)

—it was probably one of the more physically traumatic events that’s happened to me in my adult life. Like, I hit the tree branch so hard that I snapped it off at its base and it was probably almost ten, fifteen feet long and maybe three or four inches in diameter. And just totally karate chopped it off with my shin—so hard that I thought I broke my shin.

And my knee was all messed up and I got to the ground and I was hyperventilating ‘cause I was in so much pain and—but it only lasted maybe five, ten minutes, at most. And then, I was ok. I was like, “Oh, ok! My shin’s not broken. I can weight my leg.” I packed up all my things and I hiked out.

But I was tripping out about how much emotional pain I’ve inflicted on myself and how much greater of a toll that has taken on me in my life than the physical pain that I’ve experienced. Like, if that is the extent of my physical pain—that was nothing! It lasted five, ten minutes! You know? But the psychological trauma that I’ve inflicted on myself over the course of my life is just so, so, so much greater than that.

And, I mean, I think the key part of that revelation is that it’s sort of self-inflicted—to the extent that we even have any control over ourselves. I think that the thought is, “This is something that I’m doing to myself. And maybe that’s something to pay attention to—maybe that’s something to work on.” You know? Maybe finding ways to lessen the pain that I inflict on myself should be a priority in my life.

(LAUGHS)

It’s super remote, you know. It’s pretty far from the road. You do walk through a bouldering area to get there, but the boulders stop after ten minutes of hiking, and then you hike another, I don’t know, twenty-five minutes to get to the crag. So, it’s pretty out there. Like, there’s nobody else out there, really.

And I do know that these two Tahoe route developers—I guess they’ve kind of developed routes all throughout the Sierra—a lot of harder sport route type of things. They stumbled upon this cliff twenty years ago and they looked up at the routes and they were like, “This is just beyond us right now. We’re not capable of climbing these things.” And they just left it completely untouched.

And then, twenty years later, Jimmy Webb is just doing his thing which is just going exploring for boulders everywhere—hiking miles and miles. And he stumbles upon the cliff looking for boulders and he’s like, “Oh, my god. This is one of the sickest sport routes I’ve ever seen. This has to be bolted!”

But he’s primarily a boulder. He was probably occupied with other projects at the time, and he didn’t get around to bolting it right away. He told his buddy Dave Whetmore about it. Dave told Carlo about it. Carlo and Dave hiked out to the crag, and Carlo ended up bolting it.

So, Jimmy found it. Carlo bolted it and cleaned it and stuff. And then, Jimmy, Carlo, and Daniel all kind of worked on it together. And Carlo ended up sending it first. Jimmy and Daniel ended up sending it soon after that. And then, Nathaniel Coleman did it pretty quick, too—in quick succession.

And, of course, as soon I saw photos of the route, I was like, “Oh my god! That’s incredible. That’s so unique.” This bullet granite, overhanging face with tufa pinches and slopey cracks—I could not think of a more perfect route than that. So, I was chomping at the bit to try it, of course.

And then, I heard Keenan was super psyched to try it. Keenan got fairly close last summer when those guys were working on it. And then, this summer it was like his main—or spring, early summer—it was his main priority. And so, he went and rapped in and actually brushed some of the snow off the top of the crag so that it would dry up faster.

And it was also a really light snow year. I think in sort of pre-global warming times, there’s almost no way that you could climb on it in the spring because there’s so much snow. The top of the crag is this giant dome, so all the water will just funnel right down onto Empath—which is why it’s such perfect rock.

But it was a really light snow year this year. Keenan went and shoveled off some of the snow. So, we got to start trying it in, I don’t know, late April, early May. And it was like perfect conditions when we first started trying it.

And so, Carlo and Jimmy and those guys—I guess they threw out the grade of 15a. And then, Black Diamond sort of made this whole video around the ascent—around Carlo’s ascent. And so, this 15a grade had really been established and none of the other ascentionists disputed it. But I kind of had an idea in the back of my head like, “Oh, it seems like kind of a crack climb in spots and maybe it suits me.”—‘cause it’s like granite cracks and stuff, and that’s something that I have a fair amount of experience with.

And sure enough, I got there. The conditions were really good and I climbed within six feet of the anchors on my third day. But then, I fell in the tree and sprained my MCL and was sidelined for—I didn’t climb at all for two weeks. And I had some other emotional stuff going on—some relationship stuff going on. And it was actually really hard. When I went back to the route, I was super scared. And I’ve rarely felt so scared and insecure on a rock climb.

But when I went back to Empath after falling in the tree, just with everything I was dealing with in life and the time that I’d kind of taken off from it—it’d gotten warmer, et cetera, et cetera. I was so nervous on the route and there’s some spots where you skip a draw or two here and there, and there’s actual ground fall potential. Plus, there’s the potential of falling in the tree. Like, I was just a basket case.

The one limb that I fell on got completely lopped off. And then, I think Keenan fell a little bit lower and he uppercutted another limb off with his arm—he was totally fine! But those were the two biggest hazards and they were gone. But just still, you could feel the tree—after I fell in the tree, I could just feel it behind me.

And I would get up to that kind of—around that same spot on the route from the ground and I would just be so wigged out and I would let go. And I was kind of falling all over the route, too, and just feeling like a nervous wreck. And it took a while to regain that same—

(INHALES)

—I don’t know, sense of levity that I felt when I first approached the route. I think I actually never quite regained it. I just sort of dialed the route so thoroughly that it dumbed down so much. And I figured out all this great beta. And even still, it felt like a fight, but eventually, I sent it.

(KK): Whether your project is at your absolute limit, or you’re just climbing for yourself and for fun—it’s important to remember that we bring everything with us to the crag. I’m definitely not the first person who’s found some escapism in climbing, some shred of a distraction from the painful stuff in life.

Some days, there’s only room for the next hand, the next foot placement, body position, and breath. But the rubric that separates using climbing to escape or to reset is when we’re able to come back to ourselves. 

(EP): Yeah, of course. I completely agree with you—that we bring everything we have up the climb with us. Like, all our baggage, all our insecurities—and sometimes that stuff can really weigh you down. You know, I think that certain people, maybe if they have a little bit more levity in their lives or a little bit more freedom—maybe they’re not quite as encumbered by baggage and insecurities and stuff.

But I think throughout my adult life, it’s something that I’ve dealt with every year. Every hard project I have some shit to address that I take with me to the crag, and the hardest projects that I’ve ever had have all forced me to address these things.

You know, I think that the hardest things we try, they require a presence of mind, and maybe a presence of heart, too. And if you’re encumbered by all this baggage or insecurity and stuff, you can’t really give your entire being and your entire presence to the route. And therefore, you just can’t climb it. So, you have to address those things and work through those things in order to get to a place where you can feel free and feel comfortable on the wall. 

That’s why sometimes sending the stuff near our limit is so beautiful because we’ve finally addressed all this stuff or we’ve shed all this baggage—or we’re just fighting tooth and nail to get to the top and it’s ugly and stuff, but that's kind of beautiful, too.

(KK): Even though I still have no idea what I’m doing—things are happening. And if you’d like to help out and support us, check out patreon.com where you can sponsor us for as little as one cup of bodega coffee. It really helps keep this podcast going, and for the record—we love bodega coffee. Special shout out to Peter Darmi because he makes this thing sound good.

- You’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast. A huge thank you to deuter, one of the leading backpack brands that will help you hit the trails with confidence and comfort. And a big thank you to Gnarly Nutrition for supporting this podcast and the messages that we share. Gnarly Nutrition supports a community of vulnerability and equality—and tastes like a milkshake, without all the crap. A big shout out to Allez Outdoor for supporting the Access Fund and 1% for the Planet. Allez Outdoor Personal Care products are made by climbers for those who love the outdoors. And thanks to Patagonia. Not bound by convention, Patagonia is in business to save our home planet.

Support companies who support this podcast—we couldn’t do it without them. If you liked what you heard, you can leave a review on iTunes or give us a like—like all good things, you can find us on the internet. Until next time.



Additional Resources:

The Bipolar Ape | In this short film sponsored by the Leakey Foundation, psychologist Steven Pinker and primatologists Frans de Waal and Richard Wrangham grapple with human nature. Are we essentially peace-loving, like bonobos, or doomed to continual violent conflict, like chimpanzees?

MasculinityU | MasculinityU is a coalition of individuals working together to bring change to our communities, colleges, states, and country. They offer a national speakers bureau, curriculum development, advocacy and programmatic consulting, and guided facilitation.

Higher Unlearning | Higher Unlearning is an online space to discuss how–instead of our climb up the Ladder of Manhood – men and young men can embrace a full, whole idea of manhood. We’ll look at everyday situations and scenarios men and young men encounter, ask the hard questions, and lean into our discomfort (where the real learning and unlearning happens).

Men Can Stop Rape | To mobilize men to use their strength for creating cultures free from violence, especially men's violence against women. 

The Will to Change: Men, Masculinities and Love | bell hooks talks about how to express the emotions that are a fundamental part of who men are—whatever their age, marital status, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. But toxic masculinity punishes those fundamental emotions, and it’s so deeply ingrained in our society that it’s hard for men to not comply—hooks wants to help change that.

 
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Episode 36: The Climber & the Poet

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Episode 34: Dreamers Only