The Rock Warrior's Way: Mental Training For Climbers

process.
    Power Words
    Some words simply don’t work for the warrior. We tend to use words habitually, without thinking about what they mean. Internally, however, we know what they mean, and we unconsciously respond to the words. Some words are unnecessarily passive. Other words are “loaded” in one way or another. Many words we use are habitual “figures of speech” that may have hidden meaning. Actions follow the words we use. To act deliberately, we must speak deliberately. Doing this helps retain and utilize power impeccably.
    Words to stop using include success and failure . Success and failure label your performance in a way that devalues the learning process. When you climb you produce an effort. That effort has an outcome. Rather than label the outcome as success or failure, focus on your actions, on what helped and what you might change next time.
    Good and bad are loaded words. Typically, they represent oversimplified judgments based on unconscious values. An easy example is “good” or “bad” weather. Rain may be “bad” to a climber who wants to go climbing but to the local farmer, it may be “good.” Is rain good or bad? Obviously it’s neither. Rain is simply rain. When describing wet weather, stick to the facts and describe the rain. If it’s you who fell from the sky, don’t call it a “bad” performance. Simply describe the performance.
    Another word that a warrior doesn’t use is worry . Worry is a passive form of fear, which comes from an old Anglo-Saxon word meaning “to choke or struggle.” You don’t want to choke or struggle. So don’t worry. Be actively concerned. Better yet, be curious.
    People typically use the phrase “take care” or “be careful.” These focus on being guarded and cautious instead of staying receptive to the situation. Being cautious is passive. If there is danger in the situation, you need to actively pay attention to enhance your ability to respond. A warrior isn’t careful; he is observant and he pays attention. In his book Psycho Cybernetics , Maxwell Maltz sums this thought up with, “Don’t be too careful.”
    People often say, “I have to,” when referring to a task they dislike. “I have to work full time,” implies that you have absolutely no choice. In fact, you choose to work. Working produces income for things you’ve decided are important, such as food or your children’s college tuition. You could also choose to quit work and accept the consequences. The point is, it’s your choice. You’re in charge. By using the habitual phrase, however, you create a fictional reality where nothing is your fault. You pretend to be the passive victim of circumstances that conveniently excuse you from responsibility. You might turn down an invitation to dinner by saying, “I have to study.” In fact, you choose to study, but you don’t want to say that because you feel it will hurt the host’s feelings. The deception can become quite complicated. After a weak performance on a climb, you might say in disgust, “I have to start training!” What does this mean? It doesn’t mean very much, really. You’re pretending to scold yourself. It’s a dishonest way to obscure the situation, to twist the words and shirk responsibility. It’s a way to avoid saying, “I choose to start training.”
    A warrior doesn’t use the word try . Steve Petro likes to say, “Trying is lying.” Try has an element of vagueness that gives you an excuse. It implies that you might not make it, and if you don’t it really won’t be your fault. “Trying” means that you’re unconsciously focusing on unknown factors that might prevent you from reaching your goal.
    When you speak in this vague way you place a verbal limit on your power. You willingly give away power to a mysterious something outside of your control. In fact, there will be numerous ways to improve your effort that were overlooked. That is the challenge: to notice these subtle details and act instantaneously with power, not simply to try. Do not hold yourself to the habitual old standard of mental effort.
    Instead of saying he’ll try, a warrior states he’ll do it. His intention is to give his best effort, but he doesn’t put a limit on that effort. He knows he’s not perfect and he may not make it. The difference is he knows it’s not helpful to emphasize this possibility with a power-draining word like try. For him, doing the climb essentially means engaging the process; the