It is hard to believe that it has already been a year since my attempt to climb Denali. I have a lot of experiences, observations and pictures to share from that adventure, and will do so soon.
One year on, I can’t help reflecting about what I learnt
from my climb, which I had to abort after eight days on the mountain. The immense scale of the mountain
starkly drives home how insignificant each of us is on this planet. Yet each climber’s drive to keep
reaching for the summit is a testament to the human spirit.
There is a heightened awareness that our stay in this world is
temporary, and the bitter cold and howling winds and the daily avalanches
remind one of the innumerable ways in which that stay can come to an abrupt end. Of course, the same is true off the
mountain although we are less aware of it.
When I look back at my life, I marvel at how insignificant successes
and failures that occupied my head now appear to be.
If my number is up today, will regrets that I didn’t work
harder -- publish more than the rest, or fight more battles, or wake up more
often in the middle of the night grinding my teeth -- tinge the sweetness of
the moment of my exit? I am dead
sure that it will instead be wishing that I had thanked more people, owned up
to more of my mistakes and apologized, expressed my love more freely, and taught my son more of what I learned
about human nature.
That’s my sense of urgency.
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