Belay is off...

Rock climbing safety is all about communication with your partner. There are the basic commands, “Belay on?” “Belay is on.” “Climbing.” “Climb on.” “Belay off?” “Belay is off.” And before these commands, you always check your tie-in with your partner. While it may be tempting to shortcut checking your knots and the basic commands, especially with a partner you’ve climbed with before, that is not advisable…these are disciplines that keep both climber and belayer safe. These are disciplines that instill trust in one another and climbing with a partner is all about trust. I used to love climbing, which is surprising because I fall, a lot. The falling never bothered me because I always trusted my belayer to catch me and he always did.

That said, I’m seriously thinking about getting rid of my climbing gear. These days I’m gravitating more toward surfing, running and snowboarding, all solitary sports. The first time I took my board out on the lake by myself, part of the rush was that I was out on the water, alone. When I run, it’s just me and my thoughts, I don’t run with partners and I rarely participate in the exercise of nodding at fellow runners, or walkers or cyclists that I pass. And snowboarding, much like surfing, can be done alone. Climbing isn’t a solo sport, you need a partner and I’ve given up on partners of any sort. Partners require people and I’m learning (albeit it painfully slowly) that people can’t be trusted. A few entries ago I wrote about my trust never being breached when trust chose me…I was wrong. In the last week, my trust has been ripped to shreds. In the last week I’ve come to realize that someone I thought I could trust, someone I shared my deepest, darkest self with, was not at all the person I thought he was. It’s my fault, really, I shouldn’t have trusted, I should have known better. I should have kept myself locked away in my safe little world. I won’t make that mistake again. Lately I’ve been ruminating about the fact that I will no doubt spend the rest of my life alone and I’m hoping the rumination is part of the process of acceptance because I don’t have any desire to meet anyone new, ever again. Again, people just can’t be trusted and while I may be slow in learning this lesson, this time it’s been painful enough that I won’t forget it. It’s been painful enough that I never, ever, ever want to hurt like this again and I will do anything to make sure I don’t. I have enough friends that I’ve managed to keep at arm’s length, I don’t need any more. And I will never again let anyone get closer than arm’s length.

So I’ll stick to solitary sports, I will close myself off from the people I share this world with. I won’t rely on someone else at the end of the rope to catch me when I fall because no one can be trusted. My climbing gear has been pulled out and is ready to be disposed of and I will be glad to see it go. “Belay is off,” there is no one at the other end of the rope to trust anymore.