I’ve heard that it takes a dramatic event to create dramatic change. There are numerous stories of people who 
turned their lives around after either hitting rock-bottom, having a near-death experience, or reaching a point of total desperation.
Last week, as I clung onto the side of a mountain with a bag of dynamite strapped to to my side, questioning my choices in life and trying desperately to find my footing, I felt no such sense of discovery.
A friend of mine had offered me some work, knowing I am unemployed and feeling both emotionally and financially frustrated. And while being the “blaster” on an exploration (seismic) geophysics expedition is not my trade by choice, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to earn an income (and blow stuff up).
Sure, I was doing this primarily for the money (and to blow stuff up), but I was intent on using this trip as a spiritual journey. Back home I was feeling confused and anxious – not sure what my next step should be, second-guessing every decision I had made over the past year or two.
But this job would be more than a way to pay the bills. It would provide me with a temporary escape from the routine of my life, shake things up. This adventure would give me clarity. Above all, this experience would give me some perspective and a renewed sense of gratitude and appreciation.
I was determined.
I would not let myself be consumed by thoughts of inadequacy and failure. You know, those thoughts that seem to creep in when you’re doing something just for the paycheque. This wasn’t a low-point in my career. I was not hopeless.
I was just a guy who had to make a quick buck until he could find something more stable and a little less dangerous.
So as I traversed the side of the cliff, speaker wire wrapped around my waist, 30lb metal bar over my shoulder, electric detonators in a yellow tin-box and a canvas bag full of dynamite…I began to fight myself.
“What are you doing?” asked the negative voice in my head (we’ll call him Negatron).
“Go away, Negatron.” I replied trying instead to focus on the beauty of my surroundings, hoping it would inspire my spiritual discovery.
“So you’re a ‘blaster’ now?” Negatron said with an invisible smirk.
“I’m here to help out a friend, make some quick cash and hopefully have some sort of epiphany about the next step I’m supposed to take. This is temporary. This is not…”
But Negatron was relentless.
That little voice consumed me. He dug deep and brought out memories of perceived failure from my past. He asked me about my childhood dream of becoming an actor. He questioned my reasons for choosing to go to University. He reminded me of my brief stint in the film industry. He laughed at my attempt at a career in public relations. He called me a flake and a wanna-be writer. He even compared me to my dad.
Fuckin’ Negatron.
I tried to ignore him and re-focus on the task of burying three sticks of dynamite on the side of this ridiculously steep cliff… but it was too late.
I felt myself slipping. The weight of the metal bar over my shoulder was shifting my balance. I tried to plant my foot to keep myself from falling, while holding onto the bag full of dynamite and the yellow tin box with the detonators. In one spastic movement, I tried to do it all at once, failing to do anything but slip and slide down the side of this cliff.
I dropped the 30lb metal bar.
I dropped the yellow tin box.
I dropped the canvas bag full of dynamite.
I lost my grip on the side of the mountain and just fell. I just let myself fall.
I felt the scrapes of the rocks and dirt along my face as I slid. I felt my knees and shins collide with stumps and branches. I felt my ankles shake under the weight of my own body as I tried clumsily to plant my feet.
I was expecting a loud boom from the dynamite, but there was no noise. There was nothing except the sound of laughter. Negatron was howling uncontrollably.
Despite the fall and the imaginary critic in my head, I was still sure that this moment was happening for a reason. Even as I lay there, I pictured the Magic Vision Fairy coming to my rescue with a kind word and a valuable life lesson.
No dice.
I picked myself up, gathered my gear and hiked the 15 feet feet back to where I was supposed to plant the dynamite. When I was finished, I climbed back onto the main road.
I was pissed off. I was sulking and feeling sorry for myself. After all, I was a University-educated, public relations consultant with years of professional experience. I was trying to figure out what to do with my life, but I knew I wasn’t a blaster. What the hell was I doing risking my life and busting my ass for a couple of bucks?!
Some spiritual journey this turned out to be. I was still no closer to answering any of life’s big questions that had been plaguing me for months. I had no epiphany, no awakening… just a gimpy knee and a sore ass.
I felt cheated.
The big moment of self-discovery that I thought would be handed to me on a silver platter never came. I was expecting an introspective revelation, instead I got a beatdown.
Sure, I came back home with a stronger work ethic, anger-fueled motivation and a renewed appreciation for my bed, but I lacked the moment. That precious moment when you know your whole life is going to change for the better.
So maybe there is a different life-altering event in my future that hasn’t happened yet. But I can’t afford to wait. Whether or not that Magic Vision Fairy is on her way is irrelevant. I have to keep going.
I will continue to battle Negatron. I will work my ass off trying to find my way. I will pick myself up and keep climbing even after I stumble and fall.
But seriously, Magic Vision Fairy, if you’re reading this, feel free to pop in any time now. Any time now.
