The Mountains We Climb

We all climb mountains, and every single one of them, regardless of outside perspective, is daunting. They’re composed of histories, stories, external processes and pressures, and the compounding pressure of time. They’re built over the years and sometimes erupt in the space of a day. They don’t care what or who you are; in a way, their apathy towards your human condition is perhaps the most annoying. But they exist to be surmounted, and everyone, from paupers to princes, must climb them.

As with everything I try to write here, personal history is woven into the narrative. Moments are brought to the fore by looking at images I’ve taken, hints of a time past, or inspired by adjacent thoughts lived into the moments between. I can’t always tell where I’m going when I start typing, but I know where I’ll end up.

In a way, writing is a mountain that I climb daily. Writing is that steep cliff surrounded by the mists and fogs of heaven, birds circling to pick the scraps left in my wake. There are cuts and gashes across my head, hands, and heart as a consequence of each action, and though time heals all, there are scars aplenty. Sometimes, I need to relive those moments of collision and catastrophe, if only to remind myself and you, dear reader, of the inevitability of our decisions.

Mountains. We all have them, and they all suck. A profound statement or not, we recognize the validity of the underlying thought. We know that when we wake up each day, we’re either going to face the moments left unfinished from yesterday or encounter new twists and turns brought on by the considerations of others. We long for the days when the road ahead is clear except for the small stones and boulders of our daily needs. We ask ourselves if this is everything and all we can bear, and when the answer comes from the ringing echo of the surrounding valleys of discontent, we’re forced to carry on, step by grinding step.

My burdens and my mountains aren’t yours. We run the risk of false equivalencies all the time. The “you wouldn’t know the challenges I face” turns into “well, you don’t know MY stories either” confrontations. We see it played out constantly on social media, a violent tête-à-tête conducted in the public square. We see it repeatedly on our Facebook feeds, Glassdoor profiles, streets, and media. Why?

We want our mountains to be similar. We want to know that if Person X can survive, we should also be able to. You and I are basic creatures, prone to believing that the visible is the actual, that perception is reality. We fail the “sniff test” of understanding that empathy, while nice to have, doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll fit in their shoes over the next mile. We want a homogeneous human experience replete with the suffering that affects the fewest people we know.

Freudian “pleasure principles” aside, we spend our lives in the pursuit of wanting what others have, not understanding that lurking behind their facades are mountains much different than our own. We chafe at the bit holding us back from perceived success because we know that deep within, we, too, can chase that dream. But can we?

Dear souls, our mountains are our own to climb. We may have molehills versus Everests. We may have Graylocks versus Washingtons or McKinleys. We have such a broad pool of human experience that the nuances of our challenges are such that no one can ever live our lives similarly.

As we head into another weekend of another month and watch the clock and calendars slowly burn away under time’s raging fire, I’d ask you to consider your mountains. For some of us, it’ll be health; for others, it’ll be employment. Some will have the challenge of their next meal, while others will have the challenge of choice. Whatever the shape of your mountain, know this: you only fail if you never try. Your success is built on one foot before the other, not in the giant leaps for all humanity.

You’ll get there step by step, one shaky footfall after another, one curse and raised fist at a time. It may take a lifetime or be gone tomorrow, but regardless of its duration, your mountains are surmountable. Have faith in every moment you spend doing so.

May it ever be so.