What would you do?

To help or not to help that was the question. I couldn’t bring myself to stop, to enter her life, to help her. I felt like a cruel and ignorant being, the kind of person I don’t want to be.

There she was: sitting on a bench staring intently on a cigarette, a cancer-stick burning into the sidewalk. She hunched over in her cranberry-coloured tracksuit. Frozen in this half-bent place; her glasses slid to the tip of her nose.

There I was: in my walking meditation. I felt compelled to help. Instead, I walked away. Where was my loving-kindness; why didn’t I stop?

I watched the concrete slab smoke the ciggy. Was she trying to pick it up? Her eyes were so intent and yet she did not reach for it. Could she muster the strength and flexibility to bring it back to her lips?

I turned around in a last minute attempt to stop. I really should help. I hate cigarettes. I considered what this cigarette meant to her. If she was truly stuck in her body, this murderous friend might be her salvation from suffering.

To assist in slow-suicide or to walk on by, that was the question. I walked on. I wanted to help, maybe I did.

to grade or not to grade

i'm too pooped to capitalize. we just hauled ass out of owen's river gorge so that we could make it into town before 5, to pick up our retro-fitted propane tanks. it's a serious huff up out of the gorge. i can't remember the last time my heart pumped so hard. i was in the lead, with a pack of climbers nipping at my heels. i wanted to stop, let them pass, and maybe cry some. instead - i gaver until i could giver no more. now we're at the library, surfing the net - totally gnarly web waves... what a funtastic day of climbing. for the last climb of the day, rik hopped on a sneaky looking 5.11C...or so he thought. "I can see why the climb's called Venom", he exclaimed after pumping off. we both agreed that he must be on the wrong climb, but after placing a few quickdraws, it only made sense to plug away at it. how hard is it? we were perplexed and too far away from the guide book. it didn't matter, he finished the climb. while i was watching him work it it made me wonder - maybe grades are more of a hinderance than they are helpful. if you approach a climb with the belief that it's too hard, chances are you'll flail. but if you get on a climb that just looks like fun, chances are it will be. the climb was called Snake Eyes, 5.12something. i top-roped it and made a good haul of it. screw grades, just climb - here, here.