Every time I see a mountain, I want to climb it.
Admiring it from afar is not enough.
It seems too easy.
It beckons me to touch it’s windswept surface.
I completely lose my sense of judgment as I eye up the rugged rock basking in the sun.
From a distance, the idea seems so achievable…a piece of cake.
With that in mind, I imagine what I’d take with me for the ascent.
Protein bars and water should suffice. What more would I need?
The beauty seems to outweigh the danger as I admire the jagged peaks reaching majestically towards the clouds or perhaps….heaven.
It is raw.
It is untouched, waiting for soft hands and trusty hiking boots to politely interrupt it’s desolate existence.
It may be towering, but many have climbed a tower.
One foot in front of the other, I surely know how to climb.
What is the source of my hesitance?
A tiny but ever so present voice telling me no is all that stops me.
The voice of reality as we have been taught.
A whisper of sensibility branded in my brain, reasoning me down from my earthy ideas.
“Someday” is all I can say.
“Somehow” is not in my vocabulary for I have already scaled the mountain many times in my sleep, in my dreams ….. in my mind.