August ‘26

The Mountains We Climb

Mountains are more than

moss covered granite soaring skyward.

They are the steep terrain

in relationships,

and health,

and big life tasks - say, moving to a new home.

We climb their tough trails

with all our might,

pulling ourselves up and over,

stepping strategically,

exercising muscles of mind and body

to the point of fatigue,

where we discover

the power of glutes and thighs,

and other lessons:

sacrifice gives more than it takes,

our will has deep strength,

vulnerability requires heaps of courage.

We pause as we climb,

hands on hips, breath resetting,

critical moments when composure falters,

and we coach ourselves up:

Just to the next switchback.

Or to any next task

on the hill of life.

With the slow subtlety of

morning’s blush skies driving out the darkness

it dawns on us:

Well…nothing left to climb.

Gravity takes us by the hand

as we head back down.

The worst is behind -

climbed,

spoken,

healed,

emptied.

Our relieved steps

weigh weary now,

and descent threatens twisted ankle,

or stumbling on

dismay, self-pity, and second thoughts.

Trekking poles hold steps steady,

like the arms in a reconciling hug,

or the friend who celebrates our health,

or the new neighbor’s dog who lets you scratch behind his ears.

Every hard haul up the mountain

requires intention,

and with attention back down the slope

we make it home.