The MountainWorld™ Blog

Thursday Thought: Passion in Life

My wife and I often talk about how fortunate we feel to have careers that are built upon our passions. As the cliche goes, do what you love and you'll never work another day in your life. 

Certainly, Wende and I are fortunate. We were able to make our passions our vocations, and create the lives we wanted to lead. I also know that is not possible for everyone. But, having passion is not only possible in everyone's life, but, I would argue, it is essential. Our passion is the essential fuel which drives us forward in our lives, and helps ensure that we don't, as Henry David Thoreau once said, come to the time of our deaths and find that we never fully lived. 

So, for today's Thursday Thought, some of my favorite quotes about finding that passion, that burning flame, inside yourself, whether it be your vocation, your hobby, your family, or whatever. Find it, and let it drive your life forward.

A man without a purpose is like a ship without a rudder.
- Thomas Carlyle

Enthusiasm is one of the most powerful engines of success. When you do a thing, do it with all your might. Put your whole soul into it. Stamp it with your own personality. Be active, be energetic and faithful, and you will accomplish your object. Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Without work, all life goes rotten. But when work is soulless, life stifles and dies.
- Albert Camus

Everybody has their own private Mount Everest they were put on this earth to climb. You may never reach the summit; for that you will be forgiven. But if you don’t make at least one serious attempt to get above the snow-line, years later you will find yourself lying on your deathbed, and all you will feel is emptiness.
- Huch Macleod

Every man is proud of what he does well; and no man is proud of what he does not do well. With the former, his heart is in his work; and he will do twice as much of it with less fatigue. The latter performs a little imperfectly, looks at it in disgust, turns from it, and imagines himself exceedingly tired. The little he has done, comes to nothing, for want of finishing.
- Abraham Lincoln

Those who do not create the future they want must endure the future they get.

- Draper L. Kaufman, Jr.

The biggest mistake people make in life is not trying to make a living at doing what they most enjoy.
- Malcolm S. Forbes

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets: 

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!

- W.H. Murray

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Thursday Thought: No Child Left Inside

Kick the can. Climbing trees.

Falling in ponds and catching frogs.

Climbing rocks and skinning knees.

Brushing it all off and going out the next day for more.

Those are many of the memories of my childhood.

We played, and played hard. We experienced, and enjoyed, nature, despite the inevitable bumps, bruises, and scrapes that came with the territory.

Being outside was not a privilege or a punishment, but just an integral part of life; it's what we did.

And, looking back, it was that early, long term exposure to nature which helped define who I am today. Playing in the natural world gave me a deep respect for its beauty, power, and magic. It also taught me how to be self-reliant: if I climbed a tree, I better be careful, as no one would be there to pick me up and kiss the bumps when I fell.

The natural world taught me also to not take myself too seriously: it reminded me, even as a little kid, that I am but one, tiny, tiny cog in a very big piece of machinery. And, it of course taught me to enjoy using my body, to revel in physical activity and all it offered.

As William Wordsworth wrote, I "let nature be my teacher". And a good teacher it was.

Sadly, though, it seems to me that a nefarious brew of risk aversion, liability & litigation, and urban sprawl have changed the way kids today experience and interact with nature...if they do so at all.

And that scares me. It scares me deeply, not simply because the lack of venturing outdoors - even to a local park - is creating a generation of dangerously obese children and adults, but also because I believe interaction with the natural world creates stronger people who respect our world and all who inhabit it. And, as the father of 2 children, I want them to grow up with a connection to, and love for, the natural world.

So, with National Get Outdoors Day coming up on June 12th, and having recently read Richard Louv's great book, Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature Deficit Disorder, I thought the need for connecting with the outdoors would be a good topic for this week's Thursday Thought.

Below are a melange of quotes - enjoy! And, remember to get yourself, and your kids and friends, outside on Saturday, June 12th, for National Get Outdoors Day!

What do parents owe their young that is more important than a warm and trusting connection to the Earth…? 
    - Theodore Roszak, The Voice of the Earth

Here is this vast, savage, howling  mother of ours, Nature, lying all around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children, as the leopard; and yet we are so early weaned from her breast to society, to that culture which is exclusively an interaction of man on man.
    - Henry David Thoreau

I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in tune once more.
    - John Burroughs

Man’s heart, away from nature, becomes hard; [the Lakota] knew that lack of respect for growing, living things soon led to lack of respect for humans too.
    - Luther Standing Bear

I am well again, I came to life in the cool winds and crystal waters of the mountains…
    - John Muir

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature   the assurance
that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter.
    - Rachel Carson

Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.
    - John Muir

If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen.
    - Henry David Thoreau

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.
    - John Muir

The woods were my Ritalin. Nature calmed me, focused me, and yet excited my senses.
    - Richard Louv

For those of you interested in more of what Richard Louv has to say about "Nature Deficit Disorder" and the need to get kids outside, listen to the interview below of Louv from ABC News, Brisbane:

Richard Louv interview

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Thursday Thought: A Commencement Inspiration for The Bosque School

 I was honored beyond words that the students of The Bosque School in Albuquerque, New Mexico, not only remembered by presentation to them back in February, 2006, but also enjoyed it enough to ask me to speak at their commencement ceremony last night. 

It was not only an honor, but also a lot of fun, and exciting to see these energetic, young people moving from one phase of life to the next, commencing this new and intriguing chapter of life. And, it was great to hear after the ceremony that they enjoyed my brief, 20 minute speech about the wisdom I've gleaned from the mountains over the years. 

Many of them shared their dream summits with me afterward: playing professional soccer, returning as an MD to work on the nearby Navajo Reservation, and even some who hoped to one day be professional climbers. (I strongly advised them against that!)

The four key points of last night's commencement speech are still in my head, resonating with me as I hope they are with the newly-graduated Bosque Class of 2010:

1. Dream...and dream big
2. Get a helmet...it's a bumpy road ahead
3. Don't take life too seriously...it's not
4. And, keep your humanity...a box of pears and a hug means a lot more than summits and certificates

Thus, I thought for this Thursday Thought (I know, it's Friday, but I was a bit busy yesterday!) I'd share with you what I said to the students, faculty, Board of Trustees, and parents of The Bosque School for their 2010 commencement. It's a bit long, so I've uploaded the full speech as a PDF file. 

Enjoy!

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Thursday Thought: Climbing, Kids, & The Mountaineer's Will

I'm often asked if having children - I now have two - has changed my climbing in any way. And, I think it is often assumed that I either (a) no longer climb or (b) have deeply limited my climbing. 

The answer is no on both accounts. For starters, I have always been a conservative climber, most likely as a result of my guiding background. I've never considered dying in the mountains as an option, even though I know logically that it is indeed a possibility. Nonetheless, I always approach my climbs and expeditions with a conservative attitude and the essential perspective that the mountain will be here another day...the important thing is that I will be here to climb it another day.

While I have no desire or intention of ever dying in the mountains (Jim Whittaker once famously wrote: If you're ever killed mountain climbing, then all that you've worked for is gone.), I do know it is always a lurking possibility. Risk is as ever-present in the hills as rain, wind, and snow. But, risk is ever-present in our lives as a whole. I truly believe I have an equal chance of losing my life while driving on Interstate 25 in Denver as I do while climbing the high peaks. And, while I again do not want my life to end in the mountains, I guess I'd prefer that to becoming a good ornament on a semi while driving to the mall.

At any rate, what I'm getting at is that having children has not made me take more or less risk in my life, but rather to be sure I continue living my life, and living it fully. My kids have made me more certain than ever that I must pursue that in life which pushes me, enthralls me, and gives me the inspiration and passion to do more, to live more, to experience more. As William Arthur Ward wrote in To Risk:

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool,
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out to another is to risk involvement,
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas and dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return,
To live is to risk dying,
To hope is to risk despair,
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
He may avoid suffering and sorrow,
But he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or live.
Chained by his servitude he is a slave who has forfeited all freedom.
Only a person who risks is free.
The pessimist complains about the wind;
The optimist expects it to change;
And the realist adjusts the sails.

If I pass on anything to my children, I want to pass on to them the knowledge that life is to be lived, embraced, and loved. That they should pursue their passions, and live with compassion. That they should be intriguing and intrigued. That they should maintain a sense of adventure and wonder in all that they do. And, that risk is inherent in living a full and true life.

So, today's Thursday Thought touches on what I want to show and pass on to my children. I hope I will have many more years to do so...The Mountaineer's Will by Paul S. Williams:

Having disposed of my material possessions, I now turn to those items I hold in great esteem but which are without material value in this life. To all of my children I leave the most important things of my life: The sparkle of sunlight on the snow in the cool sunlight of the early morning after a new snowfall, the blue of ice in a serac poised against the blue sky, the clean firm grip of good rock, the music of a tiny stream in an alpine meadow, the smell of heather in bloom, the graceful tilted head of an avalanche lily, the clink of pitons and carabiners, singing of a primus in darkness at high camp, the flicker of flashlights in the pre-dawn climb, and the indescribable beauty of an Alpine dawn from high on a mountain. The feel of comradeship as the team moves swiftly up the face, the moments when fingers of fear clench at your insides on exposure, and perhaps moments of terror, the knowledge that life and death are sure, swift, and true.

But above all, I leave to you my beloved children, those few short moments of attainment and peace on the summit, secure in the knowledge that you have conquered not the mountain so much as yourself. Those few moments in the sunlight you share with God, who has written his signature all about you as you sit in the magnificent cathedral in the sky created by God, for God, and which we mortals share but a brief time. Where you must accept the ultimate truth that we have but one end to our short life, before you descend again the burdens of the world, to shoulder the cross of responsibility to the family.

I know not whether or not you, my children, will follow in my steps to the Alpine world, and yet, knowing all too vividly the mountain dangers, I also fear that you will. But whether you go to the high places or view them from afar off as the sunset paints a crimson glory across and as the light slips from the mountain meadow, remember the restless spirit of your father amid the moss and heather seeking ever his eternal rest with God.

And, for extra credit, another wonderful series of thoughts by Rudyard Kipling from his poem If, which I first wrote about on this blog when our daughter, Lila, was born in 2007:

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Thursday Thought: Dan Pink on Autonomy & 21st Century Business

It was cold, brutally cold. The kind of cold that one only seems to find in the depth of February in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. And it was only exacerbated by the fact that we were ice climbing, which means standing in the cold for hours on end with your hands above your head.

My twelve year old body was trying hard to generate some heat at the belay station atop pitch 1 of Standard Route, and my father helped with cups of hot chocolate from our little plastic Thermos. I was cold, I was tired, I hated it...but really I loved it. Every frozen, painful, fearful moment of it.

I loved it because our guide and friend, Nick Yardley, allowed me to. He allowed me to because he made it fun. And, he made it fun not by slinging jokes or doing cartwheels on the ice, but rather by allowing me to be a climber, not a client; by not micro-managing my every move, but to figure it out based on what I already new. Nick made the suffering fun by giving me autonomy, by allowing me to make my own decisions on the ice (assuming I wasn't endangering myself or others), and thereby allowing me to take deep pride in the climb and in the process and eventual outcome.

As a guide today, I try to approach every outing with clients with the same perspective as Nick did years back: to give my clients autonomy (within reason and the bounds of safety), to allow them to figure out the problem at hand, to apply their skills and knowledge creatively and take pride in the process and the outcome. I try to focus on what Nick said to me in 1986:

I guess I will have done my job when you don't hire me anymore...when you no longer need me...when you've got the skills and confidence to climb by yourself. If I tell you what and how and when and why to do everything, you'll never be able to do any of it without me. 

Autonomy. A simple concept, tough to embrace and implement. I know this more than ever as my wife and I try to effectively rear our 2 year old daughter, Lila, helping her learn the skills necessary to live a confident, creative, caring, and compassionate life.  

Author and speaker Dan Pink has some great thoughts on motivation and autonomy. He speaks a great deal about how the old paradigm of fostering productivity by applying financial incentives simply does not work as well as we think it does. As he says: "There is a mismatch between what science knows and what business does..."

Rather, he argues, we foster productivity and creativity by encouraging autonomy, mastery, and purpose. What do these fluffy words mean? He describes them as "the building blocks of an entirely new operating system for our businesses" and, I would argue, our lives:

• autonomy - the urge to direct our own lives
• mastery - the desire to get better and better at something that matters
• purpose - the yearning to do what we do in the service of something larger than ourselves

In other words, people need to feel connected to, involved in, their work in order to be successful and productive at it. They need to feel like they are a true part of it, rather than simply another cog in a big piece of machinery. And, they need to feel validated in being creative, in finding solutions to problems both current and future.

So, for today's Thursday Thought, rather than transcribe Pink's thoughts into this blog, I want to share some of his thoughts on video. I think, while very different, they echo those thoughts of Nick Yardley many years ago. They echo my approach to guiding and teaching. They echo what my wife and I are trying to foster in our children. And, most importantly, they speak to a new way to look at business, at life, at our world.

First, a short bit from PBS's News Hour on "What Drives Motivation in the Modern Workplace":

And, second, Pink speaking at TEDGlobal 2009:

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Overdue Thursday Thought: Simone Moro and the Ethics of Everest

As many of you know, Everest, and the ethical issues surrounding it, have long been a part of my dialogue here on The MountainWorld Blog and elsewhere. I often speak to groups about Everest ethics, and it is a point of discussion in many a conversation. 

And, as 2010 the Everest season ramps up, we find the usual discussion whirling and swirling about: 

• Should commercial expeditions be allowed to operate on Everest?
• How should rescues and emergencies be handled on the mountain? 
• Is it ethical to bring amateur clients to the Top of the World?
• Is oxygen use unethical on Everest, or anywhere?

There is never an easy answer to ethical debates. Much of it comes down to personal style, preference, ability, and situation. And, as a result, ethical debates have a way of simmering for years, and boiling over when the right agitation comes along. (Just look at the sorry, squabbly state of our political system!)

With the high level of debate and sometimes mud-slinging that goes with Everest each year, it was refreshing to me to hear recently on ExplorersWeb from the renowned alpinist and climber, Simone Moro. 

Moro is a climbing veteran, and one of the most respected and successful alpinists in the world today. His climbs are legendary:

• First winter ascent of Makalu in 2009, alpine style without oxygen
• First ascent of 6950 meter Beka Brakai Chhok (Karakoram) in 2008
• First solo traverse of Everest, climbing the Southeast Ridge and descending the Northeast Ridge, in 2006
• First non-Polish winter ascent of an 8,000 meter peak, climbing Shishapangma in January, 2005
• Rescue of Tom Moores on Lhotse in 2001, earning him the Fair Play Pierre de Coubertin trophy from UNESCO, the Civilian Gold Medal from Italian president Carlo Azeglio Ciampi and the David Sowles Memorial Award from the American Alpine Club

And the list goes on.

Moro, one would think, might then follow the oft-repeated mantra that commercial expedition climbing, and expedition climbing in general, is simply "not right", that it is a bastardization of the sport, as is the use of supplemental oxygen on the high peaks. These are arguments that have been posed and debated time and time and time again. 

Is there some truth to these statements? Certainly. As I've discussed here before, climbing on Everest and other high peaks of the world needs some rethinking. There are bad decisions being made every year, and people being taken up high beyond their limits and beyond their skill levels.

But, that said, everyone has their own reality in climbing. Not everyone can be a Steve House, a Vince Anderson, or a Simone Moro. And, even Steve, Vince, and Simone had to start somewhere. By demonizing a segment of our industry which gets people into, and enthralled by, the mountains, don't we in the end limit and diminish the very sport we love? 

So, back to the point, and to my Thursday Thought: Simone Moro is hoping to climb Everest this year without oxygen. A veteran of heroic, light ascents on remote peaks, he'll be walking uphill this spring with 500 others, all climbing in different styles with different prerogatives and ideas. But, Simone, in his interview with ExplorersWeb, seems OK with this, saying:

[This spring][ will be an immersion in “high altitude tourism,” but the world and the mountains are - or should be - accessible and free for everybody to live their dreams. The only thing I hope for is that everyone there is honest in declaring and understanding what a summit climb is and what it is not; the difference between a new route vs the classical; and what is oxygen use and what is not. 

Those things should be obvious, but Everest history is full of mistakes, lies, lack of sense, reality and team spirit.

Anyway, I respect everybody and hope to follow my style of alpinism and realize something unusual, different or new, even in that crowded Base Camp. We'll see if I will be able to do it or not… 

What are your thoughts on climbing ethics? I'd love to hear more!

And, for extra credit, here's a cool video of Simone reaching the summit of Makalu:

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Thursday Thought: Taking the Path of Obliquity

We've all heard it before, those famous words of Robert Frost about the path less traveled by making all the difference. But is it true? Do we sometimes arrive at our destination more effectively by taking the less direct, less focused route from point A to point B? 

In his wonderful book Everest: The West Ridge, Tom Hornbein writes that, as he approached the mountain, "at times I wondered if I had not come a long way only to find that what I really sought was something I had left behind." And, acknowledging this paradoxical drive to venture far when you know what you seek is close at hand, Hornbein includes just below some great Kipling: 

Something hidden. Go and find it.
Go and look behind the Ranges -
Something lost behind the Ranges.
Lost and waiting for you. Go!

So, is there something to taking the path less traveled, to not simply going from point A to point B in the most direct and quickest fashion? I think so. 

Just today I came across a wonderful book excerpt by economist and author John Kay entitled Think oblique: How our goals are best reached indirectly. In it, he of course makes a compelling case for taking the oblique path, referencing examples from Malcolm Gladwell to Bill Gates, the Panama Canal to Messner climbing Everest solo and without oxygen in 1980. (Interestingly, Kay also discusses the differences between big pharma companies Merck and Pfizer, something which I discussed a bit in my Brotherhood of the Rope post back in 2007.)

Kay's main point is simple: if we follow the hedonistic path, seeking only a direct route to profit or pleasure, we'll find neither. But, if we instead align our actions with our ethics, if we decide what we stand for and believe in and then chart a course based on those principles, both pleasure and profit will indeed follow. 

Today's Thursday Thought comes from the great utilitarian John Stuart Mill, from his autobiography written at the end of his life:

[Happiness is] only to be attained by not making it the direct end. Those only are happy (I thought) who have their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness: on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, even on some art or pursuit, followed not as a means, but as itself an ideal end. Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness by the way.

Thoughts, comments, reactions, ideas? Please share them!

Will you take the path of obliquity?

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Thursday Thought: On Time in Kathmandu

It's that time of year again...in the next few weeks, tens of thousands of people - climbers, trekkers, and tourists - will flock to Nepal, some of them for the first time, to visit the unique country, to climb its amazing mountains, and (hopefully) to visit with, learn from, and offer some assistance to its amazing people.

I've always been drawn to Nepal...and I've never been quite able to describe it, to put into words the deep, almost visceral impact the place and its people have had on me since first landing at Tribhuvan International Airport in 1992.

Similarly, I've read some great accounts by others about their draw to Nepal, but none of them have yet explained it in words.

Perhaps it is a myriad of things: its absolute foreignness bathed in a welcoming attitude which feigns familiarity; the innate knowledge that you are far from home and embarking on an adventure of some sort; the simplicity of life even in the face of unending hardship and struggle.

Again, I'm not sure. I even struggle at times to explain to people who are going to Nepal for their first time what to expect. More often than not, I refer them to Pico Iyer's great description from Video Night in Kathmandu:

My first impression of the city was delirious. I felt as if I had tumbled into the jangled and kaleidoscoped subconscious of an opium freak. Sweet incense wafted out of stored crushed raggedly together along dusty, crooked streets, and out from their walls hung horror-eyed masks, spinning prayer wheels, druggy thanka scrolls and revolving lanterns. Mirrors caught the light on shoulder bags, long dresses streamed from carved wooden balconies, scarves fluttered in the breeze, demons stared out of rice-paper calendars. On every side, irregular, nine-storied temples jutted up, and then were obscured by a flutter of pigeons. Squeaky-voiced elves chattered around the shrines where they peddled Bhutanese stamps, [Newari] paintings, English chocolate. A ramshackle hut advertised the “Unique Typing Institute” and its only customer, standing patiently outside, was a cow. Everywhere, the dusty streets spun and whirled and revolved like a mandala. Freaks and flute sellers wandered in circles around a main square where long-haired men from East and West, hipsters and hawkers, hustlers and heretics, ricocheted counters off the sides of Carom boards. Snakelike icons wriggled from cardboard signs and elephant-headed gods sat in the middle of yellow-wreathed shrines and everywhere, staring down from walls and home and streamers, were eyes, eyes, narrow, painted pairs of eyes.

But, the innate "weirdness" of Nepal aside, there is something deep that strikes me every time I visit...something that is not directly tied to the sensory overload of the place that Pico describes above. Rather, it is something more subtle, something that tugs on our Western patterns, begging us to slow down and enjoy the day, chat with friends or make new ones, and have another cup of tea.

In Nepal, time just simply takes on another meaning. Everything is slower. Little is rushed. People, when they see an old friend on the street, stop to chat. Watches adorn nearly every wrist in the thriving metropolis of Kathmandu, but many don't actually work.

In short, like takes on an entirely different tempo in Nepal...And it is one I welcome, a wonderful respite from the harried lives we lead in the West.

While this slower version of life brings with it some challenges - an often fatalistic attitude being the main one (read Dor Bahador Bista's excellent Fatalism & Development: Nepal`s Struggle for Modernization) - it also has that wonderful effect of slowing the pace of life so that it can be taken in, drunk deeply, and thoroughly enjoyed.

It is this - this slowed life, this deep enjoyment of the beautiful day, the cup of tea, the "namaste" to a good friend or a new one - which has touched me most deeply and brings me back to Nepal time and time again.

In his excellent book Shopping for Buddhas, author Jeff Greenwald captures this distorted sense of time in a light, but accurate, way:

If I were pressed to give one reason, one specific observation of why life in Nepal seems so much more vivid than life anywhere else, I would answer with a single word: time. There is a quality to time spent in Nepal that can only be described as inhalant.

Back home in the Wild West, time whips by with the relentless and terrible purpose of a strangling vine filmed in fast motion...There is no such thing as now; only a continual succession of laters, whipping their tendrils around the calendar. The clutches of the vine...

In Nepal, the phenomenon is reversed. Time is a stick of incense that burns without being consumed. One day can seem like a week; a week, like months. Mornings stretch out and crack their spines with the yogic impassivity of house cats. Afternoons bulge with a succulent ripeness, like fat peaches. There is time enough to do everything - write a letter, eat breakfast, read the paper, visit a shrine or two, listen to the birds, bicycle downtown, change money, buy postcards, shop for Buddhas - and arrive home in time for lunch. 

So, the next time you're out and about, feeling pressed for time and strapped for resources...s l o w   d o w n. Take a moment to chat with a friend or make a new one. Have another cup of tea. Sit and admire the sunrise, the sunset, or the blue sky at midday. And, remember The Salutation of the Dawn:

Look to this day,
For it is life, the very life of life.
In its brief course lie all the verities and realities of your
existence;
the bliss of growth, the glory of action, the splendor of beauty.
For yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is only a vision,
But today well lived makes
every yesterday a dream of happiness
and every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well, therefore to this day,
such is the salutation of the dawn.

Time Will Tell - Bob Marley

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Thursday Thought: Ego and Thoughts on the Top

I don't know who said it...Perhaps I did. But, regardless, I try to live by it:

Life is too short for ego.

Perhaps that's why in my life I've tended to gravitate toward, and be friends with, people who, while often quite accomplished, don't brag about their successes. Rather, the people I value most tend to be quite the opposite, downplaying their accomplishments, recognizing the part fortune and hard work played in their lives and, most importantly, always looking ahead with respect and reverence to the next challenge, the next mountain.

As I write this, I think of Marc Webb, my college housemate and friend who recently directed (500) Days of Summer. Marc is as humble as he's always been, and also introspective about the road that led him to success, and the road yet to travel.

In 1963, Willi Unsoeld made the first ascent of the West Ridge of Everest with Tom Hornbein, an ascent that still ranks as one of the greatest in Everest history. Afterward, however, Unsoeld refused to succumb to the pull of ego, sharing this sentiment on various occasions:

You've climbed the highest mountain in the world. What's left? It's all downhill from there. You've got to set your sights on something higher than Everest.

I've been fortunate enough in recent years to get to know Tom Hornbein through my work with the American Mountaineering Museum. Like Willi, Tom would have every reason to be less-than-humble about his life. From Masherbrum in 1960 to the West Ridge in '63, his climbing career is impressive and illustrious. In addition, he served as Professor and Chairman of the Department of Anesthesiology at the University of Washington School of Medicine from 1978 to 1993.

But, Tom is anything but egotistical. I've seen many occasions when Tom has politely conversed with climbers as Museum functions, listening honestly and intently to their stories of triumph and tragedy on Colorado's 14ers or other peaks, never making the slightest mention of his climbs unless asked directly.

And, Tom is a thinker. Climbing, I would venture, was never to Tom about something as simple as standing on top, but rather about a journey of desire and uncertainty, much like the journey of life itself.

His 1963 book Everest: The West Ridge is, to me, no less impressive, raw, and powerful as the climb it documents. Tom's prose is direct, pensive, and honest, and, at its core, reflects on he and Willi's climb not as one for the record books and soapbox, but a part of the great journey. His last words in the book make up this week's Thursday Thought:

Beneath fatigue lurked the suspicion that the answers I sought were not to be found on a mountain. What possible difference could climbing Everest make? Certainly the mountain hadn't been changed. Even now wind and falling snow would have obliterated most signs of our having been there. Was I any greater for having stood on the highest point on earth? Within the wasted figure that stumbled weary and fearful back toward home there was no question about the answer to that one.

It had been a wonderful dream, but now all that lingered was the memory. The dream was ended.

Everest must join the realities of my existence, commonplace and otherwise. The goal, unattainable, had been attained. Or had it? The questions, many of them, remained. And the answers? It is strange how when a dream is fulfilled there is little left but doubt. 

If you want to hear some more of Tom's thoughts and perspectives on Everest, climbing, and life, watch the video interview below from the American Mountaineering Museum's YouTube channel:

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Thursday Thought: Gaston Rébuffat On Guiding

Q: What's the difference between a large pizza and a mountain guide?

A: A large pizza can feed a family of four...

Mountain guide jokes...they've been around as long as, well, as long as mountain guides, I guess. (Check out a collection of them here...but know that some are a bit on the lewd side...but all are pretty darn funny, I must admit, and may even be a bit true!)

Along with the jokes, we mountain guides have often been the subject of some degree of scorn from fellow climbers. Some climbers accuse guides of not being "real" climbers. (Not sure how "real" is defined.) Others despise us for bringing novices into the mountains. (Weren't we all novices once upon a time?)

I chose to become a mountain guide early in my climbing career. In fact, I remember exactly when it was: February, 1986, climbing Standard Route on Frankenstein Cliff in New Hampshire with our guide, Nick Yardley. Nick was - and still is - the consummate guide: skilled, strong, compassionate, empathetic, and passionate about his chosen field. He taught me the fundamentals of climbing - not just where to put my foot or swing my axe, but how to climb, how to respect the mountains, the mountain environment, and how to get into - and out of - the mountains safely, efficiently, and with at least some degree of fun.

As my climbing progressed, other great guides would inspire me as well: Phil Ershler in 1986, Bernard Prudhomme in 1987, Dave Hahn in 1988, Dave Colke in 1989, and more. All of them were great climbers, but also, like Nick, great teachers. And, most importantly, they loved to share the mountains and the mountain spirit with others. They had a deep desire to see others realize the seemingly impossible, to gain the perspective many of us find in the high, remote realms, and to learn to apply that perspective on our daily lives on terra firma.

In that way guides are, I guess, no different than teachers. The medium of course is different: mountains are our books, ropes and carabiners our pencils and calculators (or iPads). Like teachers, we guides have chosen deliberately to devote ourselves not as much to the pursuit of our personal climbing goals and dreams, but rather to the development of new climbers and in assisting them in pursuing their dreams, their craft, their passion.

So, today's Thursday Thought comes from one of the best guides ever - and, I should note, one of the best climbers ever - the late, great Gaston Rébuffat:

We were two men in a land of stone and we walked toward the same star.  I was happy to be on the drus, but here as elsewhere, my happiness was to lead a companion.  What would a guide be without someone to lead? Good weather, bad weather, easy, difficult, I need to sing the same tune as he.  That was the gift of our mountains.  Climbing to the summit, one man does his job, another is on vacation and the luxury of their efforts is friendship.

For those who are interested, here's a great video of Gaston climbing in the Alps from the documentary Between Heaven and Earth:

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.