Edit: This post was hard for me to write, so please be gentle in your assessment of my thoughts.
I’ve had a lot of time recently to think about the things that motivate me to take the specific path in life that I have chosen. The underlying currents are often subconscious, but occasionally I am fortunate enough to have moments of clarity that help me critically assess my trajectory. Now is one of those times.
I’d like to mention one particular motivation that has been consistent throughout my life – snowboarding. Such a silly recreational activity probably doesn’t inspire much thought in most people, but its central location in my sphere of activity makes it representative of many of the patterns that manifest elsewhere.
There is no doubt that I truly do enjoy the act of snowboarding – that much is indisputable. However, as with much else, I believe that how and why I do it is more important than whether I do it.
Back when I was 17, I had grand visions of pursuing the sport professionally. I took all the right steps – I rode more than 100 days each season, I spent plenty of time scaring myself on jumps and I even worked at Mt Hood for negligible pay. There’s no way of knowing whether I could have made that path work for me, but it certainly would have required a serious commitment since I didn’t have true natural talent. Regardless, I realized early on that my ultimate interests were in the backcountry, thus dropped out of the park scene and sought to learn how to ride in the mountains.
But my motivations remained the same.
On a deep level, I sought some sort of recognition – through photos, praise or other means – and I continued to pursue it even while deluding myself that by staying in the backcountry I was somehow free of the need for acknowledgement. Intellectually, I could see where the pursuit of recognition would logically end, yet I was unable to emotionally come to terms with the inevitable disappointment. And so, for years, I followed this dual course of outward wisdom and inner denial that continually challenged my integrity as an honest person.
In our culture I believe that there is an ingrained tendency to idolize those that are strong, unique, “bad-ass”, and those who are uninhibited by the commitments of a normal life. I see this every day in my own community, starting with young men who idolize their climbing/skiing/activity heroes, continuing with old men who still see something to worship in those who can do more, for longer. Of course this is by no means exclusive to the outdoor community – it seems to be equally present among, say, investment bankers, yet it seems even more obvious in the “rugged individualism” that is typified by the iconic weathered, bold, mountain man.
I specifically mention men, because I think that this tendency is generally much stronger in men than in women, and that men have a much harder time questioning the grounds for their motivations. I always hear of women’s recreational groups and other women’s specific activities that emphasize relational and non-competitive ways to enjoy those activities, yet I virtually never hear of men’s-specific groups of the same nature. Men’s-specific groups inherently exist anyways, especially in outdoor activities, but they are unorganized and tend to emphasize the same idolatry that makes me cringe.
Make no mistake, I truly do enjoy being out in the mountains, working hard and riding aesthetically beautiful lines on remote peaks, but I do not want to do it for any other reason than for pure joy – not for any sort of recognition. I want to soak up the experience while I am experiencing it, yet leave it behind when it has passed.
And therein lies the difficulty. I still have vestiges of that old longing lodged deep in my brain, and I want to be rid of them. No, I am not the same person as ten years ago, but ingrained patterns seem to die hard. To move in this direction, I cannot simply wave a wand and have them disappear, but instead I need to take the external and internal steps to move towards the honesty that I never allowed myself to experience.
The most obvious external factor that I can see right now is photography. Sure, I enjoy the act of taking photographs, but I have serious doubts about the value of photos after they have been recorded. When I look at an old photo, what kinds of emotions and feelings does it bring up? Why do I look at it? For that matter, why do photographs of our personal lives exist (I’m excluding journalistic photos here)?
For myself, I tend to reminisce over the particular context of that particular photograph, tracing the texture, the feeling and the history of that moment. Often it is accompanied by desire, or sometimes even regret. When I look at others’ photos, either in magazines, online, or elsewhere, my brain often responds with feelings of jealousy, which is even more obvious when some reason prevented me from being in those places myself. Is this reaction the driving force behind advertising or outdoor sports magazines – the stimulation of desire and jealousy as a means of selling products? Is there nothing more behind the online self-promotional blogs, facebook posts and trip reports than pure egoic lust? As with everything, such means of conveying experiences cannot be distilled into this pure motivational logic, but I am scared that the majority quite possibly fall into this trap (either consciously or unconsciously).
So why do I pick on photography? Because I’m not sure why I take photos and have a strong suspicion that it relates back to my old desire to be recognized. What do I feel when my photos don’t come out well? How do I react when that other guy gets the shot or the location or the light or the rider, and I miss out? When I immortalize even something as simple as a hiking trip in pictures, am I merely cementing my own tendency to live in the past, and perpetuating the craving of a future in which I might not have missed out? All are grounds for considering my participation in this activity quite carefully.
The result of all this is that I am considering selling my camera. No, this act would not solve the underlying issue, but it would be a symbolic personal step towards eliminating one of my fundamental incongruencies. I’m not completely sure about this yet, and would love to hear others’ opinions. However, as I’ve anecdotally seen from others’ experiences, it does seem that in order to tackle addictions, one needs to create an environment that enables success in addition to working on the fundamental issues. The purging of the image-maker would be one part of creating that environment.
At the same time, I continue to work on cultivating my interior awareness and to be cognizant of all the deeply ingrained patterns that condition the way I react to the present. I am going to try to surround myself with those who are at least somewhat aware of the idolization trap so that I can be positively encouraged in this change. I know very well that when I am around people who are unaware of their underlying motivations, I tend to revert back to the old idolatry and self-destructive thinking.
Finally, I will say that I must practice. I must practice not only through formal action, but also by working on the well-worn path of right view, right intention, right speech, right livelihood, right effort, right concentration and right mindfulness. No, I will not go monastic, and plenty of things will stay the same. I can still laugh, I can still drink beer and I can still go snowboarding. What I can’t do, however, is continue as is.
