“You have been assigned this mountain to show others it can be moved.”
Lately, my life has become a series of things I have to overcome. I feel like no matter what I am doing, every action, big and small, ends in failure and embarrassment. A step in any direction just moves me closer to something I am afraid of, something I don’t know how to do, something that hurts.
I’m trying hard to grow, but I feel stuck, caught, blocked. There is something in my way. My past and my future loom enormous above me, and I already feel too tired to begin. I feel angry that such an obstacle has been placed in front of me in the first place. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right. It’s too much!
My mountain is made of all the love I didn’t get, and the hole that love can never fill now. It’s made of my driving phobia, and my social insecurities, and my death anxiety. My mountain is made of the strength I have to find, somehow, somewhere, to get help for it all. My mountain is made of the ways I failed my partner and the ways I make her happy that I can’t see no matter how much she tells me. My mountain is made of all the things I wish I could do for everyone I love and the realization I need to come to that help is a form of control and minding your own business is a virtue. My mountain is my passion for writing and the gap between my passion and my talent.
My mountain feels impossible to move, and there seems so little time. What is most important? Where do I begin? How do I even start? Where will I find the strength, the wisdom, the help, since I know I can never do it all on my own?
We all have a mountain I suppose, made of all our pain and potential. It is made of everything you have been through It is made of all the things that make it hard for you to live, for each of us it is different. Most of it is our childhoods, some of it is death. Part of it is all the shit we do to ourselves personally, publically, collectively, and the rest is all your own bullshit you refuse to see. You made this mountain, we all did, and now you have to move it. Well, you don’t have to. You can ignore it, sure, but what will you do instead? What is life for if not to bring that monster down, to make a wreckage of your past and pain?
So you face it. One rocky side rises before you, a beautiful mound of hard shit, sacrifice, and suffering all your own. It rises so high you can’t make out its peak from this side of the clouds. You are small before it. Its size will humble you but don’t let it intimidate you. You can get over it, rock by rock. It will be hard but a mountaineer you have become and all you see is an adventure, a challenge, and a victory. You will own yourself, or be owned. But you know that it’s better to die than to live a life that isn’t your own so you will conquer it, or you will die trying.
There is no magic advice. Nothing moves it faster, nothing makes it easier. You just have to get shoveling. It must be moved to make room, for what, I don’t know. I only know it must be brought down. There are more mountains after yours, ones of hate, and ignorance, and pain and all must be leveled, blasted to rubble and a way made through for the next person. There is always more work, more to get over, and progress always to be made, but each of us gets only one mountain to move. If you can move yours, the next person won’t have to. They will see what great things you have accomplished and attack the next with confidence and fervor. They will know that the impossible can be done.
But first, this mountain is yours, and time enough or no, wisdom, strength, and help or no, you have to move it. No one can do it for you. No one knows how to do it but you. Moving your mountain makes something significant of your life. That pile of shame and suffering is a mountain of meaning. It’s a living moving breathing thing. It is you. You simply have to move…yourself.
You have been assigned this body, this mind, this experience, to show us how a person can be moved and an experience can be made to mean something.
Thinking about it this way helps. This quote jumped out at me yesterday and a light switch was flipped, and I saw something. That is what I have forgotten. I am not the only one who has been through what I have, and none of us has experienced anything new, we’ve only been given a new way of looking at it, and overcoming it. My job is to get through it, and heal from it, and share how I’ve done it so the next one can do the same. Then they will share how they have endured and healed too, and so on.
So, go move your mountain. Show us it can be done. Show the next one to stand below such a harsh existence that rock by rock can bring the whole thing down.
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