Life Is A Rope

A man searches everywhere for the meaning of life and hears of a very wise guru in a remote, nearly inaccessible part of the Himalayas.

The guru agrees to help him and asks what he wants. The man says he needs to know the meaning of life.

After many hardships, it takes him almost a year to reach the guru, who is venerable and over one hundred years old.

The guru answers without hesitation: “Life is a rope.”

The seeker is dismayed and says, “Life is a rope?” After coming all this way to find you, all you have to tell me is that life is a rope?”

The guru, shocked and angry, exclaims, “You mean it’s not a rope?”

Terra has been trying to get me to try rock climbing forever.  Last night, the stars finally aligned, and we met at the gym at 5.

I found her doing the splits at the base of the wall— warming up.

I think: Dear god, what have I gotten myself into?

Terra is a trained gymnast. 

She’s also been climbing rocks since she was a little kid in Boulder, Colorado. She’s been taught by the best. 

“I’ll teach you! It’ll be fun. You’ll be good at it, what with all your yoga flexibility and proprioception.”

I think: And my fear of heights and my right/left dyslexia.

But I say, “Sure! Let’s do it!”

I sign the waiver, and am told I can climb in my Allbirds.

Terra squinches up her nose. She says, “No. Shoes are the most important piece of equipment.”

She pulls a pair of LaSportiva climbing shoes from her backpack.

“Here, try these,” she says. “They didn’t fit Silva.” (her daughter).

They fit me perfectly!

She also has a harness for me. And a chalk bag.

We approach a wall covered in confetti-colored rocks.

And it is here that I encounter the rope.

“The rope is your lifeline,” Terra explains. You have to tie a double figure eight in it, like this.”

She proceeds to do some magic with her fingers, and the rope suddenly looks something like this:

I cannot do this. My brain shuts down. I will never be able to rock climb. My life depends on a rope that has to be tied exactly like this. 

Terra is patient. She shows me again. She tells me to “follow the snake.” I can’t even see the snake.

After many hardships, it has taken us almost a year to get to this rock wall.

Terra has agreed to help me. She gives me shoes and a harness and a chalk bag and asks me what I want. I say I want to know how to climb the wall.

She says, “The wall requires a rope. Tied like this.”

I say, “ You mean I’ve come all this way to climb a wall and you say I need a rope?”

And she, shocked and angry, exclaims. “You mean you don’t need a rope?”

Terra on a gnarly part of the wall.

Terra and Kath