Myopia.  A legitimate medical condition, otherwise known as near-sightedness. Having myopia can be fixed with glasses, contacts, or surgery. To have your decisions or opinions called “myopic” is similar – its to be accused of being short-sighted, and the fix isn’t as obvious.  For me, both can be beneficial to your climbing, but perhaps not your life.

Please read the chart from the top

Foregoing that steady 9-5 with the health insurance and 401k in favor of living in a van, traveling, and climbing?  Many would call that myopic, but I know a few that have made it work. It’s actually a hell of a lot easier now that jobs with the aforementioned benefits are as common as hens teeth. Turning any hobby into a lifestyle can be all-consuming, and sitting in my cubical I get a pang of jealousy for those out there doing seasonal work, living the van life, and putting in vertical miles.

Risk-taking behaviors get called myopic too.  Highballs. Danger climbing. Free soloing. Alpinism. If your physical health is a prerequisite for your ability to work, risking that to climb is risking your ability to pay the rent, or to put food on your table. Tim Kemple once said (Dosage III) he doesn’t think about his loved ones before or during a solo, because the worry and guilt that brings will take away the motivation and focus needed to succeed, or even try. Its a voluntary myopia, a ‘present time only’ mindset that allows one to dedicate 100% to the goal at hand. I find it similar to the late Jim Bridwell’s decision to leave the over-night gear behind on his team’s attempt to summit The Nose it a day, a gamble, but one that lightened the load enough to ensure success. Or that scene at the apex of Gattaca.  The commitment grants the ability.

I realized recently that myopia is a key to many of my successes in climbing, in a much more literal sense. Now, I am (presently) blessed with 20-20 vision. I am also afraid of heights – the guidebook accolade “great exposure” is oxymoronic in my opinion. Somewhere around 15 feet off the deck, my near-sightedness kicks in. Suddenly, I can’t see the ground – its out beyond where my myopia allows me to focus. The only things I’m conscious of are those that I can reach with my fingers and toes, because those are the only things that matter, the only things that are going to allow me to move up. My faith in my pad placement, my spotter, my belayer, andor myself give me this luxury of willful ignorance. Not being aware how high up I am keeps the fear response at bay, and the heart-rate beating a reasonable time signature. It’s not “mental control”, it’s just blindness.

Bubbles and the author share an optometrist

So this is a thank you to those that make that possible. The people who take pity on my vision condition and rather than insisting I get glasses or Lasek, they act as my seeing-eye-spotters.  The folks who accept my voluntary neuro-visual impairment and let me come with them anyway. They don’t let me drive, but I still get to come.