I love this picture: Dolomites, july 2007. Last problem of the trip, it was raining, but Eric had seen it the pevious day, and despite getting lost 34 times searching for it, he finally found it (it was 3 meters from the path) and we had probably the best climbing moments of the trip. Because it was unexpected, not planned, an improvisation pulled out of the hat on the way to the cars. The lesson was: let it go.
I love this piscture because it represents what I love most in my life: the feeling of sharing something so deeply with a friend. I really miss that smile, now: the fucker is pulling down in USA and can't come, and to be honest I don't see many (or any...) smiles like that when I'm out bouldering. Where's the happiness gone, you all? I always search for that smile to appear on my face as well, and while it often does, because I love climbing, I would really like to see it reflected on others' faces.
Eric's comment on my last post made me think alot. He is right, I have to get rid of the bullshit. I mean, why should my move to the sea be a failure? Why do I feel so anxious? I know alot of people who would pay to be in my shoes (maybe not in my size 40 Dragons). Ok, I'm not that fan of the working life, but it seems like few people can live without working. I am going to live in a place that's ten minutes walking from the beach, and meanwhile I will be 30 minutes away from the boulders. Moreover, I will also be midway to another two new bouldering areas I love. So why am I so scared? Probably because I don't know how the work will go, and if I will be able to train as I like. Then I think: past winter I was working until 7 30 pm, and I used to get to the gym never before 8 pm. If I have trained that hard, I think I can train hard also this summer.
The lesson is: get rid of the bullshit.
Finally, earning some money can't be that bad. Maybe it will give me the opportunity to go to places I haven't seen because I couldn't afford the trip, like, let's say, Hawaii; or to meet someone I haven't seen in a while, like, let's say, Eric; or to spend more time in places I loved, like, let's say, Font and UK; or even to make my g/f less concerned about her University taxes.
The lesson is: do it for them, do it for her, do it for yourself.