i've been trying to become friends with certain people my entire life. you know, the 'untouchables.' i don't know if i liked the challenge or was just trying to validate my own existence by begging people into adding me to their buddy list. either way, it's obvious why i failed ... over and over again.
i never really had anything in common with those people. other than perhaps, that we went to the same school. or church. or had a class together (in elementary school). and i find myself running into a similar problem as a grown adult.
but here's what i had the privilege of observing this weekend at a campsite nestled perfectly in the middle of a pine-tree infested mountainside:
our camping friends like to go bouldering. if you don't know what that means, it's ok. neither did i. it means you climb a boulder ... with your bare hands. pretty incredible once you realize how difficult it actually is. anyway, they had stumbled upon a boulder that seemed to be all the rave with the other 'boulder climbing' folk. we had been there alone for a while, but then a few more people started to make there way to this lone rock. before i know it, they were exchanging stories, discovering common connections and experiences, laughing and cheering each other on as they worked together to conquer this giant rock. they had their own language. their own way of identifying with each other as fellow climbers.
they seemed to all be members of the same tribe without having ever met each other.
i used to see it with harley riders when i went out with my dad and grandpa on their bikes. there was a hand signal flashed whenever you'd pass another hog owner. i picked it up pretty fast and instantly felt i had been accepted into the tribe-o-riders. i feel it every time i meet someone here in l.a. from kansas (or any neighboring state other than nebraska). i feel it every time i see someone wearing my alma mater's gear. but here's the trick ...
what you have in common actually has to mean something to you ... it has to be a part of who you are ... or else it doesn't last.
when we walked away from the boulder and headed down the dirt road, my friend ryan said, "i hope i can be like that guy some day. he has lived everywhere that i either want to live or have lived, he is totally in shape and has to be like 45 or 50 and such a good climber ... he was so cool."
the guy wouldn't have made such an impression if ryan didn't care as much about adventure sports as he does. he wouldn't have made such an impression if ryan wasn't already on the path to becoming the kind of climber/adventurer/globe trotter that this guy was. and that's perhaps the greatest secret of all: you'll never be something you're not. and when you realize that ... trying to fit in with the boulder-climbing, camping junkies (when really, you just like being outside and eating hobo stew under the stars) becomes less about trying so hard and more about appreciating the ties that bind us ... whatever your poison may be.
[thanks to ruthi, ryan and the oceans for letting us step into your world of adventure. it was so refreshing]
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