joeseph

there's only one dream i really want to talk about this morning. the others were weird and indistinct, with pretty normal discombobulated imagery.

one was REALLY cool, though.

so a little backstory. last night i went to see superman with a coworker, and before we were walking around and I was talking about how much I love walking around at night. Something about the night air makes it easier for thoughts to circulate. It really does!

After the movie, she drops me off, and I start walking straightaway to the park. The moon is out, it's beautiful. Walking around the baseball diamond, there are a group of kids who seem drunk. I wonder if they'll come into the park and crash my party. I watch them silently, but they keep going down the block.

It was my plan all along to climb onto a roof and enjoy the view. Earlier before I've climbed on top of the dome and hung out 20 feet over the baseball diamond while talking on the phone. I love climbing shit. Love it. I'm really into rock climbing, too. I walk over to a different building on the other side of the field, try to pull up and throw a heel over an overhanging ledge with no feet---super hard, since the foot that's not on the roof pulling myself up is going straight along the underside of the ledge, and I can't pivot my weight around over the ledge and push up. So this is a no-go. I go around the building and find a really easy way up, stepping on a trash can, then on a wooden wall, then straight up to the roof. It's nice up there, and I see some other random walkers and a drunk guy singing on his bicycle as he rolls by. I'm texting and watching the moon.

After I get down I try two more times to do the straight pull-up method. If this was a regular wall I could get it no problem, since I could push off against it with my bottom foot. But as it is it's more like a muscle-up or something, and it's really hard to get my weight fully over and push off my left hand. I try harder this time, but I still can't get it. I'm definitely aware that falling is a possibility, but I'm not afraid. I know my body very well, and I know what I can and can't do, and i know what the danger zone is.

Fuck it, time to walk home. But on my way back there is a really big oak tree, which has grown sideways before it shoots up. It's obvious that kids walk and climb along the lower portions. I swear it's begging for me to climb it. So I do. Perfect balance walking the trunk to the upper branches, and I climb with great awareness, toeing the line. It's 1 in the morning at this point, which is liberating because I know that nobody will see me. I can do this all for myself... for whatever reason I decide to do these things. I go higher and higher. The possibility of falling is always there. That's how it should be. I feel so aware and in tune with myself. Climbing is like problem solving mixed with awareness--you notice smaller details that you can take advantage of, then visualize a plan of action with your mind, then execute it with your body, correcting and calculating all the time.

I get to the highest point in the tree. I spit and watch it fall. They say not to do this when you're a kid, but that only makes me like it more. Spat! on the ground. I let go of my feet and hang with both hands, swinging my feet a little bit. I remember my aunt telling me about the piece of pipe they had hanging over the Yosemite valley when she climbed half-dome. Before they took it down you could just hang over the valley, "just to feel the 9.8m/s^2 pulling on your body." So I do this, at the top of my tree. Not so bad. I let go with one hand. I feel the right one holding on for dear life and then---OHHH SKETCHY!!! I laugh to myself, grab hold again with the other one, and start climbing down again. Walk home, stretch, eat, meditate, go to bed.

So now for my DREAM. I'm driving back from my mom, where I have actually just gone and signed up for a climbing gym membership (which was actually merged with a grocery store, for some reason... this isn't as uncommon of an idea as you'd think). I had a milk pitcher that I drank water from. Talk about a convergence of imagery---I go to work and steam milk for coffee drinks, climb on spare time, and here they both are.

We get on the highway, but I'm walking before I know it. Following another group of kids. There are little planks sticking through on the side, where they're still building the freeway, but I find it really easy to walk on. They are cross-hatched with beams of different sizes. It's like walking on a railroad bridge.

As the freeway onramp gets higher and higher, the planks get sparser, and a little bit harder to walk on. The sketchiness factor increases. I realize that I'm wearing socks, and I can actually SLIDE along the planks which are going parallel to my direction. This is way faster and way funner than walking!! And before I know it, I'm REALLY high up. But fuck it. i realize this, and I keep sliding, albeit more carefully. The sides of what I'm walking on start to drop away, and underneath me the whole city opens up in a birds-eye view. Trees look like tiny broccoli plants on the ground, cars like little beetles milling around. I can see people like ants going about their business. And here is the final plank sticking out over the city, directly in front of me. I drop to my knees, then start to crawl out onto my stomach. It's a little windy, but not so bad that the plank is shaking around. It's like one of those videos where the Russian kids walk out to the edge of a crane. Sheer exposure. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXY5Qee1Qbs OH FUCK. my hands are so sweaty right now.

I'm fully on the edge. My head hangs over, and I look down. My legs are wrapped around it. I take out my phone to take some pictures. This is sketchy too, but I feel secure for some reason in my own capacity. None of the pictures come out. Amazing feeling, staring out over the void.

I walk back in. My mom is waiting. She sees me ecstatic, and yet she is only secondary to my pursuit. (my pursuit of myself, doing this) We're at the top of the freeway still, on a crane thing, and I go to the edge of another appendage. There's a sort of cradle which is man-sized, attached to the crane by a tether. Almost like one of those cages in the ferris wheel rides that can go inverted. I climb onto it and I feel a slight wrenching feeling in my gut. Before I know it I'm out over the edge, swinging around on the tether. But I've caught myself! This is a reaction, a survival instinct. People don't get it, I think. Not like me they don't.

I climb back up the rope holding it in, and do it again. There's the lurching feeling, and I'm holding on with all of my muscles; arms wrapped in a bear hug, legs crossed with calves strung as taught as a crossbow string. I love this feeling. It's really like a roller coaster ride, but there's no harness. Of course there's no harness. That's what makes it exciting. This is how you explore death, toeing the line. I've learned how to hold on.

So whenever I actually do stuff like this in real life, I know that I'm tempting fate (to a small degree, I don't do anything REALLY stupid). But I can't help but think that because I do this on the regular, and I've gotten so comfortable with my comfort zone and pushing ever-so-slightly beyond it, that I'm actually SAFER in my life for having done so. I might even be at my SAFEST when I'm climbing trees or balancing on rails high up or slacklining, because that's when I'm most aware. That's what people don't really get. When you do extreme sports you're LOOKING for the fall, you're cognizant of its existence as a possibility, and keeping the fear alive and healthy means that you're actually a little bit safer. So of course I'm afraid, but I don't think I'll stop. It feels too good, it keeps me alive. It might be an investment in my health... learning about exploring danger, holding on, and learning how to fall.