Climb.

I went on a hike with some good friends the other day.  Woke up at 6 am for the occasion… not at all like me.  Although I guess these days sleep isn’t really something that runs deep for me.  Might as well greet the sun when it comes up.  The hike we did was a constant uphill, 3 miles.  Even at only a brisk walk, it was heavy breathing and quick heartbeat (perhaps it is just a substitute for you, after all…) As we ascend, the people coming down exchange looks and phrases in the secret language of “we’re up early and we know something others don’t”… some mutter, some stream sunshine with bright smiles and neon hi’s.  I think to myself that they must be doing something better than me.  I’m climbing, I’m tired.  I don’t feel like saying hi, my eye is on the prize and no amount of pain or strife is gonna make me stop.  I compare myself to them, in some sick way.  “Look how happy they are! Look how easy it is”.  The people I pass or who pass me on the way up become rulers of my performance, although all I really care about at this point is making it to the top.  I push, and push.  I stop and take a drink, admire the view.  Knowing that there’s something better at the top,  but trying to enjoy right here, what I’ve got.

And finally, just like that, I round the bend, and I’m THERE.  It’s beautiful, like the north pole in summer time.  I’m excited.  The spring comes back to my step.  Nothing can bring me down.  I soak it up, I’m rejuvenated.  Then, it’s time to travel home.  Downhill, I can’t contain my joy.  Every person I pass is a potential friend.  I say hello, I smile big.  I can’t fathom the strain on their faces, why can’t they see how much of life there is to be happy about?  I’m confused.  I stop to think.

That was me.  A few hours ago even, and I’ve already forgotten the struggle.  I’ve already forgotten what it feels like to be the one scaling mountain, high on the accomplishment of reaching the top.  Now of course, while this is all literal, as I was thinking back, it occurred to me how much this happens in everyday life.  Every one is in a different place, some climbing to the top, some already at the summit, some coasting downwind with their Love in hand, enjoying the breeze like it’s their to give.  We’ve all been through this journey, several times over… so why do we so easily forget?

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle -Plato

If you’re pushing through, climbing high, remember that those around you coasting have been where you are, and that you’ll be where they are soon.  If you’re at the top, in awe and in love, remember to soak up that feeling and contain it like water in a camel’s hump, so you’ll have refreshment when it’s time to climb again.  And for those coasting down,  high on reaching the top and coasting through the emotions of getting what you want, remember that there are those working of the climbing.  Be kind.  Be kind.  Be kind.  You have a choice, always.  Be kind.

These are photos from a trip to the zoo.  I started retouch on these in the midst of a fever, so when I thought to myself, I should retouch the trip to the zoo!, I thought…. they should look like an ACTUAL trip at the zoo.  Disclaimer: I’ve never actually tried drugs, as my brain is all over the place enough as it is, so this is my feverish interpretation of what the zoo might be like if your brain was perhaps getting some signals crossed by foreign substance. 🙂  Side note: I’d like to point out that both the bear and the otter came to life for us this day at the zoo… me and Mouthy may be missing people, but they show up in our days anyway, in the best ways 🙂

I think I have sleep apnea, or maybe it’s something else;
I keep awaking up, gasping for air, as if I’ve been
remembering you and forgetting to breathe.
Can’t it stay high up hidden on a shelf?
I’m surprised at myself.

It’s a sudden misty train ride,
through water falling down with more grace
than I ever did.
My seat faces backwards, so it feels like I’m reversing,
passing through every bad decision made for you.
The past flashes through my drooping eyelids.

What was it that caused me to dance for your melody?
What was it in you that moved me so thoroughly?
And why is it gone.
An empty staff where a symphony once sat,
only flat notes left.

Broken down defenses lend material for future thicker walls.
I never expected that I’d be the one to fall.

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