Picture by Rantes via Creative Commons
I strap on my old tennis shoes. The ones that used to be as white as Jesus Christ’s Sunday School robe, but now are dingy, torn, and stained – shoes that smell like meat that’s been left out of the refrigerator too long.
These shoes have one purpose now – to hike, for hike-sakes. To get away and stand on top of at least one peak, since life’s mountains have felt a tad unscalable.
One afternoon my shoes decided to go further, longer, and higher than before, passing all the previous spots that had been full of well, this is far enough. In two hours, I ended on a higher peak, a nameless spot that turned my usual magnifying glass view to that of a blimp.
I stood proud on my peak, looking over sprawling Los Angeles and the sporadic pockets of green where someone forgot to build houses and highways.
Looking to the right across a small valley, I saw another hill – one I’d never seen before but now was clearly visible, slightly higher and more rugged. A hill without the three-foot wide path to the top like the one I’d just courageously scaled.
I could see the winding snake of blazed dirt of those who had climbed the other hill before. The next time I come, I thought, I’ll climb that hill.
So that’s what I did. The new climb wasn’t as straight-forward. It took more sweat, strain, and improvisation. But the view – even better. The peak – a greater victory.
Then the same thing happened. I looked across the next valley, to the next mountain and again from this new perspective I could see the path to the top. “Next time I’ll climb that mountain.”
So I came back. Found my way to the next hill. Climbed. Sweat. Stood at a higher peak. Looked across. Saw another mountain with a better view. This happened five successive times. Each mountain I climbed, giving me the view I needed to climb the next. Each peak giving me the confidence that I could make it to the next.
Next Time I’ll Climb That Mountain…
How true that is of life. As I climb through this life wanting to tackle Everest, where I can stake my Paul Angone Did It! flag, leaving a mark as far as my view. I’ll only be able to see how to climb Everest, if I first start with the hills.
“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.” – Sir Edmund Hillary
Each challenge, each climb, each step is putting me one closer to the perspective I need. Each hill will give me the view and strategy to tackle the next. I’m learning something new about the world and myself with each step up each hill.
Whatever hill stands in front of you right now, it has a purpose. Keep climbing and I promise you’ll be amazed by the view.
