[11-09-25] Grabbing at a balloon through a silk sheet
Seems like a few straight days of climbing have gotten the best of me, I woke up feeling like I could never have gotten enough sleep. I dragged myself out of my sleeping bag, bracing myself for what was to be the coldest morning we’d have so far here in Kentucky’s Red River Gorge. Maybe in part because of the cold, there was markedly less urgency this morning than there had been in the last few.
I first noticed it when those of us too lazy to make camp breakfast exchanged pleasantries in front of our long empty paper plates at the campground’s restaurant. Even the most eager climbers of the bunch seemed satisfied with a bit of loafing as we rubbed the sleep from our eyes.
Satiated, we meandered over to a new-to-us climbing area called Bonita Cliffs, where I gave what was the most half-hearted attempt at climbing I’d given thus far. The cold and the long days just absolutely sapped the energy out of me: it was a poor showing. I think its clear to the group that I am absolutely the least psyched to climb out of the bunch. I can’t tell if I just need to get over this mental hump with lead or if I’ve made the shameful transition back into a boulderer. I should at least give it a real try, since I have inherited a few climbing partners from this trip. I really have no excuse now.
After climbing, we all went back to Miguel’s where we had some dinner, played a new wizard card game that Doug taught us, then played a few rounds of a card game Noel had taught us called golf. During one of the rounds, the game had stalled on a conversation about masculinity and a group dynamic. Doug brought up his experience being on sports teams growing up and how those experiences cultivated a masculine dynamic to the point of toxicity. I tried to chime in where I could, but it was clear Doug had a lot to say on this subject and much of what I can remember him saying was well thought out. It seemed he’d said it before and I was content to listen.
Eventually we got on the topic of the dynamic of our group (of mostly men) in particular and how Nicole, the lone woman at the table, perceived it. In so many words, Nicole mentioned to the group that there were some things people had said about their partners private lives which she wouldn’t want her partner to share. When she said “Sorry, now I feel bad,” she seemed to be gesturing specifically to me.
I racked my brain for what I shared about Nia that she might not have wanted me to. I was left with a vague sense that she had a point, remembering previous times Nia and I had a conversation along those lines, but not remembering anything in particular.
“You mean about the butt stuff?” I said, as casually as I could muster, referencing one of the central bits of the weekend, to hidden snickers and rolling eyes.
Precisely at this moment, I got the call-back from Delta I had been waiting for. This had implications for the group, since I was offering to just change everyone’s flight, with the disarming pretense of my ironically lauded “Gold Medallion Status” which really just meant I got a polite greeting when I got on the phone with Delta. I got up and took the call, waiting for each name to get called out, while I flipped through a climbing magazine which I deduced was from around the early 2000’s.
It struck me that this early in the 2000s looked a lot like the 90’s. Many of the advertisements in this issue of “Climbing” offered to send me a catalog of products which I could order by reaching them at their phone number. Others showed the products themselves, with a phone number to place an order.
I took for granted how slowly technological change takes to happen, I imagined that as soon as there was an internet, it was the internet I knew and everyone saw its obvious utility. I guess I just projected my understanding of a now indispensable technology, just nearer to its creation, as if the moment the internet was created we could order just about everything online. It’s strange to imagine “online” as some foreign thing you had to be introduced to. “Online” has molded me and continues to shape my life and those of people across the globe, but many played a part in making it what it was even after it was “invented.” It needed to be made useful, which I assume takes a long time and a lot of effort.
Once I’d returned, with all of the flights changed, the vibe of the group had entirely shifted. I sensed something meaningful had occurred while I was gone. Everyone was taking turns both apologizing to and thanking Nicole, for what, I hadn’t the faintest clue, since I had been briefly transported to the early 2000s. I asked for a summary of what seemed like it was a memorable conversation, which Noel succinctly put as “trying to leave more space for other perspectives” and specifically referenced the homoerotic jokes the lot of us had been making all trip.
It felt so ironic to me, that after specifically spelling out as a goal yesterday to try and leave more space socially, as soon as I left the dynamic the group had ended up in exactly the sort of space which I had always yearned to cultivate but had largely and consistently alluded me throughout my adult life. It was feedback that seemed meant for me specifically, and that I should have been around to hear, but I would guess that what made it possible to deliver was that I wasn’t around. The pain of this cognitive dissonance stirred a defensiveness within me.
I claimed that some of the homoerotic jokes we’d been making were a reaction to and a rejection of the homo-hostile environments in which many of us came of age, but the conversation sort of devolved and fizzled into chatter from there. The important bits had already been said. The moment had passed. I’d missed it.
There’s a learning for me in here, but it sits so far outside of my lens that I can’t grasp it. I feel as though I am trying to grab at a balloon through a silk sheet. Each time I grab ahold of it, I wince, and it slips from my hands.
I must sleep now, since I am probably keeping the other people in the room awake. We head home tomorrow.