Be More Mallory

 

                                                                Picture credit: Quotefancy

In 1922, George Mallory was part of the team that successfully scaled Mount Everest for the first time. Before the climb, a reporter asked him why he wanted to do it and famously he replied, ‘because it’s there.’

The pithiness of his response makes it memorable, but it got me thinking about what his curtness might imply. Was he bored with the interview or unable to articulate his motivation more eloquently? Perhaps he was a man of few words who wanted to get on with the rest of his day.

‘Knowing your why’ is an in-vogue topic in certain circles. I see a lot of earnest discussions about it in forums such as LinkedIn, as people strive to find the perfect occupation. Knowing why we do things can make all the difference, but perhaps we should also be wary of overthinking everything we do.

Imagine this scenario. You have set off on a writing expedition. Your plan is rather loose and you don’t know how far you intend to go, but you are excited. Your scant preparations didn’t include an exclusive writing course or buying the latest kit, but hey, this is an adventure! Fellow explorers eye you warily as you skip along the trail whistling a cheerful tune. It’s not long before someone says you're wearing the wrong shoes. Until then, you were happy with your choice of footwear (what's wrong with flip-flops?) but doubts build, so you pause to seek wisdom from people you barely know on social media. Untold numbers of writers tell you the chances of returning alive are vanishing small. Apparently, almost no one like you finds ‘success’ with their writing. When you naively mention you thought it might be fun, they machine gun your posts with an astonishing barrage of negative emojis and admin blocks you for being disruptive. Serious, angst-ridden writers only please.   

A counsellor recently reported an ever-growing number of clients deeply anxious that every aspect of their life must have a high, laudable purpose neatly attached to obvious success. They want everything from their jobs to their hobbies to have a deep and meaningful purpose they can clearly articulate. They feel like failures when they do things that aren’t suitably worthy. The counsellor suggests they stop drinking from the vast pool of pop psychology on social media and instinctively just do stuff they enjoy without justifying it to themselves or anyone else. Sit and watch the world go by. Stare out to sea. Eat their favourite food. Have a laugh. Write a book or a ridiculous limerick (I’ve added that bit).

Mallory’s interview might have lacked depth and sophistication, but we remember him for doing what he said. Everest was there, so he climbed it.

To counteract the seriousness of the writing world, is there a place for us to be a bit more Mallory? Sometimes it is enough to write because we want to. Because it’s there. It is enough to write because we enjoy it and, from there, perhaps other stuff will follow. Or not. Who knows? If you can express the purpose of your writing in a beautiful and meaningful way, that’s all for the good, but if you can’t, do it anyway. The mountain is waiting for you. 

So I commend the enjoyment of life, because there is nothing better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany them in their toil all the days of the life God has given them under the sun. Ecclesiastes 8:15.

p.s. 2 years later Mallory fell to his death and his body was lost until 1999 but don’t overthink what that means, it only spoils things.