Climbing Mountains

I can’t wait. I can’t wait to see his face as we look down from the top of the mountain and he sees the distance he traveled and the height he climbed in a single day. I can’t wait to see him gaze over the horizon and feel like he’s the only person at the top of the world. I can’t wait to hear him state how lucky we are to be surrounded with such beauty, such richness, such freedom amidst a world continuously at war for those things we have right under our feet.  I can’t wait.

The dream of reaching the summit keeps him awake for weeks before – the trail, the wildlife, the journey, the exhaustion … full of mystery and imagination. Open spaces and unbridled curiosity. Our fervent chatter at the start mellows into rich conversation about life; then occasionally into expressions of ambition … followed by a quietness that allows us both to connect with the mountain under our feet.

When we climb mountains, we leave behind those things we should never drag into the wilderness. We unload our backpacks and leave our rocks behind. We breathe in the simplicity of nature while being vulnerable to the elements.  We embark on a journey upwards, not knowing what the destination will look like … only that it will be there.

There are no little mountains … only mountains.  We climb because they call to us to be climbed, and the journey transforms us.  Through rain, wind, sun and snow … we persevere.  The journey is a humble meditation … a form of worship and a lesson in perspective. With each step he grows and by the summit he has changed. For the journey would not have happened without his desire to begin … which all started with the courage within.

Be brave. Climb high. Reach your summit.