The view from my window this morning: a soft satsuma horizon, sea calm, and North Berwick Law sitting solid near the centre of it all. Over winter the sun rises beyond my field of view, obscured by the neighbouring building. A few days from now, it’ll rise juuuust on the right of frame. In about a month, it will have moved along the horizon to slip over the top of the Law like a yolk leaving a spoon. I’ve become attuned to this seasonal drift. Time passes, the universe hits its marks, and I make time to watch it go by.

I’ve felt something else shifting, not just the light.

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A couple of years ago, I felt like I’d summited something. After a decade of hard climbing, turning things around, learning how to live clean and well in sobriety and with balance, I reached a kind of peak. I’ve been up here since. Breathing, acclimating, getting used to the view. Stamping my feet and doing lunges to stay warm. There’s been some wrestling with My Ego. I haven’t seen the film Women in Love so I only know about the naked fireside wrestling scene from Oliver Reed memes. I imagine it’s like that. Me and My Ego stripped bare engaged in a complicated and competitive tension pretzel. I’m whichever one ‘wins’. I hope. I should probably watch the film. I expect it’s a classic.

From this height, I can see higher peaks. And I know I’ve still some climbing to do. Maybe watching Women in Love is part of it.

I wonder if it's any coincidence that I've fallen in love with actual real climbing at this stage in my life. Conquering (or at least subduing) my fear of heights, making new friends, putting my head above a parapet. Stepping up. Literally.

The Climbing Hangar just gave me a sticker and a letter of thanks for being in the top 100 most frequent visitors over the last year. It may genuinely be the greatest accolade I have ever received. I am the 72nd most addicted boulderer at their Edinburgh gym. I'm nearly fifty, my body aches and I still go climbing at least once a week. I clearly have some lessons about moderation still to learn. I’ll take a break over summer maybe. Switch back to running for a while. Maybe.

Change is coming. Still more climbing ahead but my context is stronger.

The new mountains don't represent crisis. It’s a phase shift. Something quieter.

I find my awareness catching on phrases like “I think…” and stopping mid-sentence. No, I know this. I feel like I could ease up on some of the hedging phrases I use to soften what I’m saying. Maybe I don’t need to reduce the force of every statement. Maybe I can rest back into some assuredness. Not everything, not always, but enough to speak with a little more confidence. A little more ease. I’ve been around long enough and toured the block, paying attention to all the uneven paving slabs and rusty railings, to speak with some level of authority. At least on matters of me. Instead of “I think…” maybe “I’ve found that…” or “what I’ve noticed is…”.

New language for the start of a second ascent. The terrain is familiar, but the footing is different. I’m not proving anything now. Or not proving as much. I’m following sight. I started climbing in a fog but now I’ve seen the view, and I want to go further.

I expect that in ten years I’ll look back and poke fun at this version of me, “how mature I thought I was, Mountain Man, standing here with his flag blowing in thin wind”. It'll be ok to look back and think I was a bit silly or naive. The hope is always to be a bit wiser in the future so it stands to reason that that Me will think Past Me was a bit… cringe. That's ok. I won't get hung up on that. I think cringe is a bit cringe. Cringe is always a bit cringe.

I’m marking this spot with a breath, a photo, and a few words. Another climb is coming. And I’m ready. I’ll pop a little flag in and head off now.

I wonder if, after the next peak, I'll think about a mindful descent. Climbing back down to wherever it was on the way up that I felt most comfortable. I'd like that. I like the dignity in that.

Not the first time I've gotten to the end of some writing and felt like maaaaybe I'm an asshole.

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I hope I'm just being honest and working on myself. Albeit out loud in public.

I used to recoil at those guys who used outdoor gyms. “If you have to do that stuff do it in private!”

But the pressure of being seen helps. The accountability helps. You lot help.

So I hope it's ok. It is ok.

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Thanks for reading and being part of whatever this is.

I love you for it.

Paul.