I was eating Sun Chips in my car at Liberty Park in Salt Lake City when something caught my eye. A guy with a really good build was lightly, gracefully crossing a slackline stretched about 100 feet from one tree to the next. His movement was mesmerizing as he worked with the bounce of the line. His rhythm was in perfect sync and when he slipped off, he had this way of getting back up that showed perfect poise. I was witnessing both an art form and a strict, athletic discipline all at once.
What compels him to do this? I wondered. And because curiosity overcame me, I approached him and conducted an on-the-spot interview. He was so good to oblige. He sat casually on the narrow line and started talking. His name, I learned, is Daniel Mulligan.
When Daniel was thirteen years old, he saw something on Instagram that would alter the course of his life. It was a video of a guy slowly traversing a thin line across a gaping gorge. He’d never seen anything like it and it had a major effect on him. He says, “I just knew, I’m doing that. One hundred percent.”
Daniel started by setting up a short slackline tied low to the ground in his backyard and using ski poles to practice his balance. Four years later, his consistent practice would find him crossing gaping canyons, following in the footsteps of the man in the video he’d seen all those years before.
When I asked Daniel what the difference is between the time he spends on a screen and his slackline time, he said, “When I’m on my phone, it’s to ignore the boredom or the itch, but slacklining and highlining are extremely fulfilling.”
His energy is different when he’s on a line as opposed to being online, he says. “This gets me fired up. This is life. Most fundamentally, this makes me feel good and tech makes me feel sh- – -y.”
I can relate.
“What’s the difference between watching someone slackline in a video and doing it yourself?” I asked.
His answer? “I’ve learned a lot from doing it as opposed to watching someone else do it. You might get a small dopamine hit from watching someone else do it, but you’re not learning anything.”
So what possesses someone to hover on a one-inch line 300 feet above a rocky canyon floor? According to Daniel, lots of things.
“This is my chosen form of meditation and training,” he says. “It makes you feel good. You have to be so focused and in the moment to do it. Particularly on a highline when it’s terrifying.”
With slacklining, there’s this balance between the risk you’re taking and being able to quiet your fear so you can place all your focus on the next foot placement. “You have to calm down to be able to walk the line, and if you’re scared, it comes out in the line. The line is a teacher. It will wobble when you’re scared.”
When we’re on our devices, no one can really tell where our minds are at or what emotional state we’re in. But when you’re walking a thin strip of woven fabric so many feet in the air, what you’re thinking and feeling are constantly visible.
“The line doesn’t lie,” Daniel says. You’re either fully present with every breath, every moment, or you’re constantly falling off the line. When you’re highlining, falling comes at a greater cost, even though you’re harnessed to the line.
Daniel’s story is fascinating. And I learned there’s a whole group of slackliners who show up at Liberty Park on Friday evenings just to be fully present with their bodies and with each other, enjoying the moment, one careful step at a time.
Maybe the next post you see won’t just be another video you watch mindlessly; maybe it’ll be just the fuel you need to kick it into gear and try what you’re seeing for yourself! But not many people turn entertainment into action. That’s what I admired so much about Daniel. He doesn’t just think, “Woah, that’s sick,” and then scroll to the next clip. Something stirred inside him that day and made him think, “I could do that.” Then he went out and made it happen.
“[Slacklining is] emotional and intense and raw. You’re not gonna get that on the couch hanging out on your phone.”
Wise words, Daniel.
What will your online viewing inspire you to do? Will you actually get out and do it? Maybe it’ll bring you to life in an exhilarating way too.
