Friday, August 22, 2014

Go Down to the Wire


If there’s ever an issue when I’m walking across the Grand Canyon or anywhere, I would go down to the wire immediately, and that wire’s a safe haven.
~Nik Wallenda


A friend of mine brought her younger sibling waterlining this past Saturday. Even though it was her first time, our newest inductee to slacklining had an incredibly good instinct for catching the line to break her fall. It got me thinking about highwire & highline artists and athletes’ strategies for staying safe (and alive).

In an interview before walking the Grand Canyon, highwire artist Nik Wallenda talked about how he has trained since childhood to “go down to the wire” in case of emergency. Sure enough when the winds got rough and the wire began a building oscillation, Nik Wallenda did just that:


During that skywalk, things never got so rough that he had to go all the way down and wrap his arms and legs around the wire—but he has also trained for that.

Slackliners also train safety responses, though from what I’ve seen, often instead of a crouch, quite a few of them will drop down to sitting position—a butt bounce with the line between the legs known as “The Korean” because Korean tightropers—“Jultagi” artists—do a similar move. Whether in a crouch or in a drop, being closer to the wire makes the balancers more stable by lowering their center of gravity so they aren't tottering so high above their narrow balance point. Being closer to the wire or line also makes it more likely that the balancer will be able to grab hold of it if they fall.

The ideal response is to go down to the wire proactively/preemptively, to be in control to crouch or drop, to go down before too much off balance. But control is something to strive for, not to count on; we can’t always anticipate what might go wrong, what sudden gust or inexplicable stumble might come. And so a second safety response is needed as well. Highwire artists and highliners train to fall toward the line (rather than away from it into thin air) and to catch the line as they fall—to grab hold, and hold on until help can arrive. In extreme cases, they’ll even try to hit the wire with as much of their body as possible--to fall across it to have the best possible chance of hanging on. I believe that Tino Wallenda, Nik Wallenda’s uncle, has several times broken and bruised ribs falling onto the wire—but better that than falling to the ground.

I'm really only just beginning to develop these skills and responses. The first safety response, of preemtively going down to the rope, whether in the wirewalker’s crouch or with the slackliner’s drop, isn't something that is instinctual for me at this point; it’s something I still need to work on. I think I do better with that second safety response though—catching the line. Waterlining this summer has given me ample opportunity to practice.

Waterlining for me is training ground for high balancing. While waterlining lacks the quick and dry recovery of a regular low-to-the-ground slackline, the water provides a safe, if wet, landing while adding the challenge of moving water underneath as an unstable focal point and the motivation to try to stay safely dry. Just as importantly, while falling or jumping clear of the line and taking a plunge is perfectly acceptable, waterlining can also be an opportunity to train the safety responses that can't be practiced low to the ground but without the cumbersome safety equipment needed for high balancing.

I have to admit, keeping at least my head and shoulders out of the frigid water and towing myself quickly back to shore were probably the primary motivators for learning to catch while waterlining. One of my friends said that that I often somehow managed to tip and grab for the line before my feet actually left it. What I don't know is if I catch hold strongly enough to support the full weight of a fall high up. More training and practice is definitely something in my future, but at least I've made a start.

I find an analogy in everything; I can’t resist. So this is what I’ve been thinking about this week: just as the highwire walker has a base of support—his wire—holding him up, we all have bases of support—support systems—in our lives.  These are our family and friends, the people we turn to when we need help and comfort.  These threads of genuine human connection are what our lives and human society are woven from. And when life gets rough, an effective survival strategy is sticking close to those support systems just as a wirewalker crouches closer to his wire.

Sometimes life’s upsets come upon us unexpectedly and bowl us over, just like an unexpected gust of wind or stumble. Then it isn’t enough just to move closer to our supports, instead perhaps we need to reach for the love and support we’ll need to hold onto till we regain our balance.

The day after waterlining, as I was drafting this post, I had the chance for a good long talk with a friend, a good friend who was willing to listen to some of my deepest worries, fears, and frustrations with compassion and without judgment; a friend who was also willing to share some of the tilts and tips in her own life. I have been very blessed to have friends like that, friends who are willing to lend a hand helping me keep my balance—metaphorically and also literally.

Life seems to be giving me opportunities to set aside my invincible independence and focus instead on the people close to me.  While I’m learning to reach out proactively before my world rocks me too off balance, it seems like often enough lately I’ve stumbled and, metaphorically, fallen hard onto the support of family and friends. It has, admittedly, bruised my ego a bit, but it's kept me from ever being broken on rock bottom.  I’m so grateful to the friends and family that have been there to prop me up.

So that is my lesson for the week: learning to make my instinctual response to the upsets of life the same as Nik Wallenda’s: go down to the wire.

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