Sense of purpose in leaving regular life for climbing

Eric Marxwrote:

Sometimes people choose the wrong spouse and they end up unhappy, but I haven’t met a single dirtbagger that wasn’t off the rails in some sense. That fact isn’t true of people who live traditional lives. It’s tradition for a reason, and it’s because it works to produce joy and meaning.

I love that you’re actually talking about God’s purpose for creating everything but would probably use all sorts of other language to pretend you’re talking about something else. “Meaning resides in the interstitial space that precedes all named things” literally translates to “God, the unknowable creator, has a plan for us” in non-hippy talk.

Donald Trump thanks you. 

There's definitely a joke here: the dude citing God all the time is overtly holier-than-thou (hehe)...small minds think their experience is true for everyone.
Religious folks make me sad for missing the point, and ultimately being cowards: they cannot make their own meaning, it's too scary being in the unknown; so instead they clutch their tomes of primeval superstition and claim knowledge. I would argue that the brave sit inside that human condition and don't run to some larger authority, but remain in the uncomfortability of being here and forge their own purpose and meaning. Traditionalists are pussies, plain as. Their biggest defense is "everyone else is doing it". The dirtbag is closer to Jesus than you. Perhaps try and be more like Jesus, he's a swell dude. Keep sucking down that traditional Kool-Aid, and keep hitting us with your personal, anecdotal observations. It just tells us more about you and your perspective, but that's it.

another thread devolved into bullshit. <unchecks "notify on site"> have fun with this asinine intractable argument.

Thank you all for the many well thought and insightful replies. I couldn't help but notice, though, that there are no relies from current active full time nomad/dirtbag climbers. It would be very interesting to hear their thoughts

M K Robertsonwrote:

Thank you all for the many well thought and insightful replies. I couldn't help but notice, though, that there are no relies from current active full time nomad/dirtbag climbers. It would be very interesting to hear their thoughts

They are planning the next send and going to bed early 

Sail Sevenwrote:

There's definitely a joke here: the dude citing God all the time is overtly holier-than-thou (hehe)...

I read through this thread and I read Eric’s responses. I don’t see a single instance where he pretends to be “holier than thou.” Can you even cite one?

small minds think their experience is true for everyone. Religious folks make me sad for missing the point, and ultimately being cowards: they cannot make their own meaning, it's too scary being in the unknown; so instead they clutch their tomes of primeval superstition and claim knowledge. I would argue that the brave sit inside that human condition and don't run to some larger authority, but remain in the uncomfortability of being here and forge their own purpose and meaning. Traditionalists are pussies, plain as. Their biggest defense is "everyone else is doing it".

You accused him of being “holier than thou” and you are literally doing exactly that. You’re calling traditionalists “small minded,” “pussies” and “cowards.” You’re a hypocrite. You’re the only one in this thread who has specifically targeted and disparaged others in this thread for their views.

Redacted Redactbergwrote:

I read through this thread and I read Eric’s responses. I don’t see a single instance where he pretends to be “holier than thou.” Can you even cite one?

You accused him of being “holier than thou” and you are literally doing exactly that. You’re calling traditionalists “small minded,” “pussies” and “cowards.” You’re a hypocrite. You’re the only one in this thread who has specifically targeted and disparaged others in this thread for their views.

Maybe when he told another poster that what he really meant was "God blahblahblah" counts as one? 

I don't think Marx needs any ball cupping, he has God on his side already. 

Arriving late as usual to a thread that has begun to devolve into toxicity, I'd like to respond the the Original Post with my own perspective, which is no more valid than everyone else's, but which will add a data point to his question.

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the sun."  There was a time when being a dirtbag was the right thing for me: I didn't want to go to college, so I went out to Yosemite and lived as a carless dirtbag (we called ourselves "grovellers" back then).  There was nothing better for me for the following five years--collecting cans, washing floors and windows part-time for ramen money, winters in Josh, summer road trips to Squamish--it was grand beyond imagination.  Before the shiny wore off that lifestyle, something different came along in the form of a girl who was willing to go sailboat dirtbagging with me.  For the next several years, it was the season for that: sailing to south america on a salvaged boat, learning to live with someone and to love them in a small space with very little money.  We weren't quite tired of that when again the situation changed, and we had to move back to California to have our children and build a bigger boat.

Fast forward six years, and we sailed for Baja on our homemade boat with three girls, to begin an epoch of life as grand, though in a different way, than the first five years of dirtbagging.  It was the time for that particular thing, and it lasted five years as well before space constraints made us move ashore.  It wasn't that we were tired of sailing--we still love it as much as ever--but it was time for the next step.

Part of me looks back at my Yosemite days and thinks I could have happily continued them for the last thirty years instead of just five, but I can't regret any of the other things I've done, and I suspect that the shiny might have worn off of boulder dwelling sometime after year ten or twelve, or possibly year six: there's no way of knowing.  What I'm doing now is exactly what's in season for me right now: paying a mortgage, watching the girls grow up and get ready to move out, investing in retirement (I don't regret being unable to start that earlier--it would have slowed down the mission), and working toward the next adventure.  All those things I did before, though they might have seemed socially useless at the time, allowed me to work as a boatbuilder, rigger, and captain, and the combination of climbing, sailing, and rigging gave me the idea of starting my climbing gear brand, adapting sailing fiber technilogy into better climbing gear.

All that to say, there's a time for everything, and the best you can do is go after whatever is before you with your whole heart, since you don't know how it will pan out in the end.

M Mwrote:

Maybe when he told another poster that what he really meant was "God blahblahblah" counts as one? 

I don't think Marx needs any ball cupping, he has God on his side already. 

I understood that exchange much differently. JW said "I would argue that there’s nothing beyond climbing....Meaning, if such a notion exists, resides in the interstitial space that precedes all named things. Prior to thought, and leagues before concepts of family, god, work, whatever.” But this is just definitionally contradictory. JW is claiming that meaning precedes God, when by definition, whatever is the source and embodiment of meaning, that is God. This has nothing to do with whether you are religious or an atheist.

Anthropologically speaking, monotheism is the single conceptual wrapper of any high value, including truth, meaning, morality, etc. Polytheism separates these things in to different gods, and that’s fine if you believe that, but going up to a monotheist and saying “meaning is outside your God” is nonsensical.

Ben Zartmanwrote:

Arriving late as usual to a thread that has begun to devolve into toxicity, I'd like to respond the the Original Post with my own perspective, which is no more valid than everyone else's, but which will add a data point to his question.

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the sun."  There was a time when being a dirtbag was the right thing for me: I didn't want to go to college, so I went out to Yosemite and lived as a carless dirtbag (we called ourselves "grovellers" back then).  There was nothing better for me for the following five years--collecting cans, washing floors and windows part-time for ramen money, winters in Josh, summer road trips to Squamish--it was grand beyond imagination.  Before the shiny wore off that lifestyle, something different came along in the form of a girl who was willing to go sailboat dirtbagging with me.  For the next several years, it was the season for that: sailing to south america on a salvaged boat, learning to live with someone and to love them in a small space with very little money.  We weren't quite tired of that when again the situation changed, and we had to move back to California to have our children and build a bigger boat.

Fast forward six years, and we sailed for Baja on our homemade boat with three girls, to begin an epoch of life as grand, though in a different way, than the first five years of dirtbagging.  It was the time for that particular thing, and it lasted five years as well before space constraints made us move ashore.  It wasn't that we were tired of sailing--we still love it as much as ever--but it was time for the next step.

Part of me looks back at my Yosemite days and thinks I could have happily continued them for the last thirty years instead of just five, but I can't regret any of the other things I've done, and I suspect that the shiny might have worn off of boulder dwelling sometime after year ten or twelve, or possibly year six: there's no way of knowing.  What I'm doing now is exactly what's in season for me right now: paying a mortgage, watching the girls grow up and get ready to move out, investing in retirement (I don't regret being unable to start that earlier--it would have slowed down the mission), and working toward the next adventure.  All those things I did before, though they might have seemed socially useless at the time, allowed me to work as a boatbuilder, rigger, and captain, and the combination of climbing, sailing, and rigging gave me the idea of starting my climbing gear brand, adapting sailing fiber technilogy into better climbing gear.

All that to say, there's a time for everything, and the best you can do is go after whatever is before you with your whole heart, since you don't know how it will pan out in the end.

Very fascinating story. How did you self-sustain while climbing for five years? Do you have any idea where your fellow full-time climbers ended up and if anyone insisted with that lifestyle?

M K Robertsonwrote:

Very fascinating story. How did you self-sustain while climbing for five years? Do you have any idea where your fellow full-time climbers ended up and if anyone insisted with that lifestyle?

I had saved my money while working at McDonald's in high school--that got me through one year.  Later I picked up occasional/temporary gigs: parking cars for the Palm Springs tennis tournaments for a week was a good haul--lots of dirtbags did that; a brief stint scrubbing toilets at Housekeeping Camp in Yosemite; a few weeks of building the Curry and Lodge WOBs after the big flood; washing floors and windows at the Ahwahnee and Lodge for Best Bet.  Life was really cheap, though. No phone, no credit cards, no bills, no expenses except food and the occasional rope.  You could scarf good meals at the lodge caferetia; there were always saltines at the deli, and there were cans to collect and cash in.

My fellow dirtbags all sort of dissipated: Tucker Tech got a girlfriend in Josh; Mr Way has burned all his bridges and is increasingly desperate; Pendejito killed himself soloing ice;  Nanook became a pillar of the Yosemite community; even Chongo left his corner table at the Caf. I can't think of anyone who dirtbagged longer than Tucker, and even he had a place to go in Yos. West and a part-time Valley job.  Everyone was in a situation unique to themselves, with varying degrees of safety net, so it would be hard to pin down exactly what "dirtbag" really means, and who was more of it than others, and for how long.