What is freedom of mind?

I am privileged with many freedoms. I can express my opinion, travel, vote, work, be myself. All these rights are to some extent granted to me by external factors, such as my country of birth and economic opportunities. But there is one freedom - Freedom of Mind - that is up to me to either possess or miss. One can be locked into prison for life but still remain her mental composure. Or one can be given all the success and love in the world, and yet still lack presence of mind. If freedom of mind is just a mental state, available for everyone, why is it so hard to acquire? What is it actually?

When I left for travelling, I thought I was reaching a higher state of freedom. I was seemingly immune to the expectations of society, family and myself. I convinced myself I no longer cared about financial security, opinions of others or even a sense of belonging. I often asked myself one honest question: What do you want now to be happy? If it was traveling to a new destination, I did that. If it was staying somewhere, I did that. I learned to follow my instinctive desires, deal with uncertainty and make spontaneous, open-minded decisions. Compared to who I had been before traveling, I was indeed a freer person.

However, no matter what I was doing, I was not really in control of my mind. I was always pondering about the future and possible suffering. I could be at the most beautiful spot, together with people I liked, doing what I wanted, and yet still my thoughts would be racing; What will happen next? Will I lose this all? What if my plans fail? I was not fully enjoying the moment. I could not, and I never will be able to, control the future. Unexpected things - both good and bad - will keep happening without me planning them. The only thing I can control is my mind. I can either stick to living in the present, facing each experience as it comes, or let my mind run over hundreds of future scenarios.

I think deepest suffering does not come from failing to get a dream job or from performing badly in a sport (=climbing) - even though they are also serious issues - but from being abandoned by a loved one. The pain of parting with someone special, be it due to circumstances or lack of feelings, is so strong and sharp I never want to experience it again. In the end I would really want to build a life together with someone I love, but it would require me to accept the risk of suffering again. That is why it might be easier to just enjoy my nice life without daring to even try to get something I really want. But it would not be living with freedom. Instead I would be constrained by my mind.

In my opinion, freedom of mind is being able to have goals and follow dreams without fear of future suffering. Plans may very well change or fail on the way, and one should in any case stay flexible to alternations, but not going for them at all is weakness. Suffering can be an outcome of trying and one must accept it, but not fear it beforehand. It is pointless spending so much precious now-time to worrying about the future, that anyways is uncontrollable and unpredictable.

I want to keep my mind calm, open and focused. I want to stay relaxed and live in the moment. I want to be brave and try my best.

One night of deciding

I sit on the couch, drinking wine and watching Into the Wild. The epic “free-yourself-from society” movie is supposed to make me psyched about being free to travel again. I have been fired from my job five hours earlier. (The flexible Swiss employment system enables companies to hire and fire people according to changing business needs. I find it better than the stiff over-protected labor markets in the rest of the Europe, but that is yet another topic.)

Half a year ago I had moved to Zurich. Since I left Finland in 2015, it had been my goal to eventually settle down in Switzerland. I had spent only a couple of days there, but I was convinced I would love the mountain outdoors, posh lifestyle and central location of that small peculiar country. During my working years in the Netherlands I had systematically networked with Swiss organizations, and I kept sending out applications to them. After conducting two remote interviews from India, I finally landed a job in my dream country. I arrived there on a dark, cold March evening, and I still remember seeing the Zurich Flughafen sign through the airport windows and congratulating myself for making it there.

The Swiss dream - hiking at the mountains

My first months in Zurich were pretty miserable. The weather sucked, I was lonely, climbing was too hard and everything was expensive. But most of all, I could not get used to the cage life: going to work, over-planning free time and just being tied down to responsibilities. After being free to go where ever I wanted to and spending my time as I wished, I felt trapped. To prevent myself from running away before giving the real life a fair chance, I made an inner promise to stay in Switzerland for two years.

I started to speak German as much as possible, go climbing with acquaintances, buy small household appliances, cycle to work and live just a normal everyday life. Even though I never liked my job and I did not find regular climbing partners, not even mention real friends, I got used to living in Zurich. Sometimes I dreamt about my travelling times – about the constant flow of new experiences and open possibilities – but still somehow I knew I was doing the right thing by staying. I was not fully committed to building a life in Switzerland, though. I avoided purchasing anything I could not easily get rid of and I budgeted my money usage to prepare for non-working times.

My lovely home

My flatmate comes home and in a slightly drunken dramatic way I talk to him about the paradox of living between two worlds: the travelling one and the real one. (What travellers call “a real life” means having a home and a stable job in one location.) I tell him that travelling is like a drug. I know that in the end I do not want to end up growing old dirtbagging in climbing camps without lasting relationships, but yet still the urge to go travelling just for a bit longer is too strong. Having suddenly lost my job is like a screaming opportunity to be free again. My flatmate tells me I have to make a decision to either stay or travel; one cannot be happy while constantly hovering between the two worlds and their pros and cons.

This time the lyrics of Into the Wild do not have the same effect in me as they did four years ago when I first left for travels (post: The plan is no plans ) I feel like I have had enough of freedom and now I am ready to live in the society. However I will not blindly let the society to define desirable actions for me, as is normally expected of its members. Instead I will use its structures to support me in getting what I like about it, whilst keeping what I can from the flexible, exploring travel lifestyle.

The following day I buy a flight to Greece. I go there to spend some weeks to just climb, meet up with friends and enjoy the beach life. But I will return to Switzerland. I like the city of Zurich. I want to find a new job I enjoy, learn (Swiss) German and make close friends. I know it takes time and effort to build a life somewhere new, and I am willing to live through the initial struggle to get there. It feels good to know what I want next: Create myself a stable life I enjoy living without having to dream about being somewhere else.

Home sweet home, in Berdorf

(I should have written this post a year ago but other topics got priority. Better late than never, right?)

When I lived in the Netherlands I never felt quite at home. Life there was smooth but something was missing. I did not feel like it was MY country. I knew my stay was just temporary and I would eventually move on.

However, from my very first visit on, I felt like I belonged to Berdorf. Always when I pitched my tent at Martbusch Campground, late on a Friday night after a 6 hour long drive, I had arrived home. The whole Dutch (and Belgian and North German) climbing community would fill the magic forests of Berforf to climb on the beautiful sandstone walls.

Popular on weekends

The compact crag area consists of some 160 routes. Almost every route, ranging from 4c to 8c, deserves a star rating. There is something for everyone's liking: long sustained routes or short bouldery climbs, fingery crimps and smooth slopers or big jugs, overhang or slab. The rock quality is exceptionally solid with good grip, although at spots a bit sandy.

We eagerly started Berforf seasons as early as possible, on crispy April days when we could barely feel our fingers, and kept going till September when days were already getting short. Unpredictable weather makes planning sometimes quite difficult, as rain forecasts in the area are rarely accurate. It is never too hot to climb there, though. And it is always worth checking the rock situation, as strangely it can be wet at the campsite but dry at the crag.

My love for Berdorf is not only in the great climbing, though. When one arrives down into the valley, midst the featured walls and lush forests, it is hard not to imagine fairies and elfs peaking around the corners. During the two years of spending every possible weekend in Berforf, I got to know each wall and path like my own.

The best route - Yellow Submarine

Spending evenings at the tents - cooking, drinking, sharing stories, laughing - was the place and time where I could be myself. Being outdoors with like-minded people was what I wanted. As long as it did not rain both days, on Sunday afternoons I left home happily, already thinking about what I would climb next time.

India, the country of contrasts

When I thought about India I imagined colorful culture, delicious food and beautiful landscapes - and also dirtiness, poverty and scams. I entered the country with mixed feelings and found close to what I had expected, both at earthly and spiritual levels.

Hampi was breathtakingly beautiful and peaceful. It was the perfect place to calm down with very few activities; somehow I filled my days with just meditating, bathing and eating. I had planned to boulder a lot and get stronger, but I could not get motivated to try any of the problems. At first I was anxious about not following through my plans and doing nothing productive. Then I accepted the presence and for the first time in my life felt at peace without performing anything. I took the time to thoroughly process some issues, most importantly my tendency to worry about the future. I felt the difference between constantly circling thoughts over opposing life choices and equably trusting that even though I do not know what I will end up doing, it will be alright.

Camping in a cave

I want to wake up every morning with curiosity about how the day will unfold - without stressing, over-planning or expecting anything. I want to live through each day being in the present, whilst accepting experiences and emotions as they come without fighting them. Meditation helps me in staying centered within myself. I can observe my flying thoughts and moods, and understand that it is up to me either to get tangled with them or let them go. Sometimes I can recognize my disruptive thought patterns before I get swallowed into them and replace them with healthier ones. Through meditation I experience how different emotions feel like physically. I am learning to consciously focus my attention on sound, movement, feeling or anything else; taking the power of experiencing to myself rather than passively letting thoughts and emotions overtake my mind.

Badami was restless and quite unpleasant. It served its purpose to put into practice treating random occurrences with equaminity. I tried to laugh at aggressive monkeys attacking my food, embrace extra falling distance caused by stolen bolts and observe how food poisoning turned around my stomach. Greatly thanks to my travel friends I got into this light, almost careless mood to just humorously note all weirdness around me. As on occasions I was falling into the darkness of my endless worrying about future, I got pulled back into reality by the never ending incidents. Also, I had to painfully experience how having pre-defined expectations about what I want to happen can prevent me from enjoying what actually happens. Not receiving the kind of affection I desire often blocks me from appreciating the good in what I actually get.

The famous Badami big

Due to various reasons I cut my stay in India short. Now that some time has passed, I can understand more clearly the motives, causalities and intentions behind my own actions and those of others, that led into certain outcomes. As much as it is a cliche, India was an eye opening experience to me.  

Climbing - what a great excuse to visit random places!

One of the reasons I love climbing is that it takes me to places I otherwise would not go to. They are not Lonely Planet recommended sights but often random rural spots that happen to have climbable rock. One of them is Cantabaco in the Philippines. It is a village – or actually rather a strip of road with population – in the middle of the jungly Cebu Island.

Me and my climbing partner arrived in Cantabaco a week before Christmas. We settled into this run-down “resort” called Spring Park that had already seen its days of glory. It has four more or less functional swimming pools (apparently instead of repairing existing pools they had decided to just build new ones), a big hall (that I used as my yoga centre) and bungalows of varying comfort levels. On our first evening we showed up at the main building to order dinner, just to find out it was not served that day. Since there are no restaurants in the village we ended up buying street BBQ sticks, fluffy sugary buns and bananas, that became our diet for the next days. At 11pm we started hearing Christmas carols from the neighboring church, and it became fully activated at 4am with ringing bells and loud singing. We learned that the nightly church parties would go on until Christmas Day.

Local kids eagerly showed us the way to the climbing crag; across a bamboo bridge, through a farm home and up steep stairs we went to reach a beautiful white limestone wall. Luckily it was possible to climb there even in pouring rain. Even though rainy season was supposed to end by mid-December, we got hit by rainfall almost every day. Climbing the naturally polished rock in high humidity definitely added difficulty to the routes, that offer differing styles from powerful overhangs to more technical pockets and cracks. In total there are around 50 routes there, optimally suited for a mid-7s climber. Unfortunately the prime time at the main wall is just a couple of hours before sunset, unless it is overcast or one enjoys masocistic sweating in sunshine.

After spending Christmas at the beach we returned to Cantabaco prepared: we had hired a motorbike to get to nearby towns for fruit & veggie markets, night eating stalls and supermarkets. We had also advised our later arriving friends to bring along camping cookers. We used them to make our own morning porridge, until eventually we befriended with the Spring Park staff well enough to freely use the resort kitchen. Occasionally also the cook showed up to prepare food for us, which we enjoyed in loud karaoke noise. (The resort's karaoke machine is a top local entertainment, and most singers compensate their lack of skill with volume.)

Despite being a small village, Cantabaco is anything but quiet. Add to the church and karaoke singing almost daily happening fiestas, screaming animals and tooting traffic. Also gunshots were often heard while climbing. Bernard, whose wife owns the crag land, is a retired army official and enthusiastic shooter, who even invited us to join him one day. Anyhow the main Cantabaco entertainment is cock fighting, that takes place every Tuesday and Saturday. One afternoon we attended a fight in the stadium packed with excited villagers. It was interesting to follow first rooster matching, then bet setting (that seemed to cause most enthusiasm amongst the crowd) and finally fighting itself. The actual fights were shorter and less bloody than I had expected, and killed chickens get eaten afterwards, so I was not that disgusted after all.

Even though I reached a big climbing high in Cantabaco – sending my first 7b after persistent projecting – above all I will remember the experience of staying in that authentic Filipino village. I keep thanking climbing for giving me the excuse to visit these fascinating random places around the world.  

Climbing: fear of falling

I started climbing around six years ago. I was way too scared to lead climb, and even indoors I literally cried above bolts. I always considered leading as "the real climbing", but due to my fear I only top-roped and felt somewhat worthless. This changed three years ago when I spent a weekend in Red River Gorge. I admired the climbers trying their hardest and taking big falls on the beautiful sandstone wall. It looked so cool that I decided to overcome my fear of falling. When I returned home I stopped top-roping at my gym and started to practice leading.

Red River Gorge

My fear of falling is caused mostly by the uncomfortableness of unknown. That is why I face it heads on: I take falls to convince myself that it is okey. Usually after a few practice falls, on a safe route and with a reliable belayer, I feel more relaxed with my climbing. Rather than thinking about falling I can focus on route reading, technique and tactics. That is what sport climbing is to me at its best - pushing the physical limit!

Fall practice in Lammi, Finland

However, in contrary to what I thought at first, taking controlled practice falls was not the complete solution. In the beginning it improved my "lead head" notably. Whenever I felt unsure about a move I jumped off, which gave me lots of falling experience. I was no longer climbing down or asking for takes, but neither I was truly pushing myself. I would half-heartedly try the crux, actually afraid that I would make it and have to climb even further from the bolt. Instead of really committing to hard routes I took falls in the name of practicing.

This summer I was at a crag with a climbing coach. He saw me confidently taking long practice falls and told that I was no longer benefiting of it. The next step would be to just focus on moving; being out of my comfort zone but trying to make it without falling. Either I would succeed, yet having beaten my fear, or take a real fall. Eventually I would start feeling less scared higher above or further sideways of my bolts.

Having an experienced belayer plays a huge part in my mental game. I am very demanding towards my belayers on the amount of rope slack, soft catch and general attentiveness. I must feel that I can safely fall at any time, unannounced and comfortable. I am extra happy if my belayer encourages me, and often having him/her, as well as other climbers, watching me makes me try my very best.

Admitting that I have only a limited about of mental reserves for each climbing day and that I need rest days completely away from the rock has made me more tolerant towards myself. I now accept that sometimes I get mentally worn out prior to getting physically tired. Especially onsighting is tiring, since one can never know for sure what is coming. Projecting is more relaxing, just working on specific sections and taking rests, and at red point attempts one knows what to do. Therefore it makes sense to alternate more and less mentally demanding climbs; by picking onsighting/red pointing, high/low grades or easy/scary bolted routes.

Projecting in Berdorf

I just spent five weeks in Kalymnos and it was so far my best climbing trip. I was still somewhat scared of falling, but I did not let myself drop sends because of the fear. I onsighted several routes right at my skill level and climbed through sections I previously would have backed off from. On my last day I tried a hard route with big tufas, long reaches and fingery pockets, really fighting to stay on the wall but fell off. I was finally climbing like I wanted to - bravely and motivatedly!

High clipping in Kalymnos

I < 3 Catalonia

I started TRIP II in Spain. (TRIP I was my previous long travels a couple of years ago.) Barcelona got selected as my base location for the practical reason of having the meditation camp there. I did not have specific plans for the month I spent in Catalonia, other than going to some mountains. While travelling I like to keep my options open until almost last minute, since that gives me the flexibility to respond to offers made on the way. I make sure to book major items like flights timely, while leaving local decision making to the moment.

My first destination was Abella de la Conca eco refugio. It is a small hideaway climbers place in an idyllic village and I immediately felt at home there. There are some crags within a walking distance there, but reaching the area's best climbing requires a car. For most of the time the refugio hosted just a handful of climbers. Of course visiting different crags, from slab limestone to steep congloromate, was great, but sharing stories over self-made dinners was equally rewarding. For a few days I was the only guest, so I got started with what I call my self-development activities. Now that I am not working I want to devote some time to learning skills I otherwise would have much less time for. These skills include writing (more) blog posts, doing strenght & streching exercises and meditating to start with, and later on I might add German language and basic photography to them.

I failed at making proper plans for after the meditation camp, so I just trusted at something coming up at the time of finishing it. I got indeed lucky! On the last day of the camp, when we began talking again, a girl came to ask me if I am a climber. She introduced me to a bunch of international climbers living and visiting Catalonia, and that way I ended up to Rodellar. I stayed in Kaladraka refugio, that is a lively place in the middle of tens of awesome crags. Grouped up with heaps of fun people I got my ass kicked by routes too hard for me.

To balance off the quietness and simplicity of mountain life, I stayed in Barcelona for half a week. I spent hours just walking around; admiring the architecture, watching people, looking at varied neighbourhoods and enjoying tapas & wine at charismatic restaurants. I had already started to think of Catalonia as a sport climber's paradise, and the days in Barcelona finalized my falling in love with the area! Climbers living there get to experience the fascinating city, visit numerous local crags on work evenings and choose of world class weekend destinations like Siurana, Margalef, Rodellar and Monteserrat. I might actually return to Catalonia in the spring, when I need to be in Europe to seriously apply for jobs. Living cheaply at the refugios, while climbing and sending out job applications, does not seem like a bad life at all.