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The Mountain
I once heard the story of a seasoned mountaineer who had summited hundreds of mountains over her career across several continents. She had witnessed the successes and failures of herself and countless other trekkers and learned a lot.
She recounted in great detail one particularly challenging trek up a snowy mountain in Ecuador, early in her mountaineering career.
It had been a goal of hers to summit this particular mountain for a long time, but it had simply not happened up to that point for various reasons.
Then came her opportunity. The conditions were set to be just right for the climb, so she and her partner traveled down to make the trek. The day before they were set to make the climb, however, her partner had a sudden worsening of a health issue, preventing him from handling the altitude of the climb and forcing him to back out.
She decided to go ahead with the climb solo as the conditions were such to allow a perfect window for the climb—a rarity on this particular mountain as she was well aware.
She took a deep breath as she peered up at the summit—her longtime goal—before taking her first steps on the journey.
The climb started smoothly. She made quick progress as she found simple and direct routes upward. She was cheerful and optimistic with each step, periodically peering up at the summit and down at the base to check her progress.
As she progressed up the mountain, though, she saw the simple direct routes transition to meandering paths. She continued onward, periodically peering up at the summit and down at the base to check her progress.
As the routes continued to meander, she began to become dismayed. Each time she would look up at the summit or down at the base, she would see little indication of progress. She began to look up to the summit and down to the base more frequently, becoming increasingly dismayed at what she saw. Then, all of a sudden she tripped and fell down a steep slope, rolling and sliding downhill quickly, unable to stop herself.
She finally came to a stop several hundred feet down the mountain from where she tripped. She lay there for a moment, realizing what had happened: she had been walking a narrow meandering path without looking where she was going. She was too busy looking up at the summit and down at the base, checking her progress.
After assessing herself for injuries, she slowly got back up, realizing that she was luckily unharmed from the fall.
Just as she was beginning again along her route, she noticed a rather direct route that she had missed during her first pass while she was so distracted by her incessant progress checks.
She quickly returned to—and surpassed—the height at which she had fallen and continued toward the summit, now committed to looking only at her immediate surroundings, focusing only on the very next step.
She continued on for a while longer, taking one step at a time, refocusing her mind on the very next step each time the desire arose to look up or down to check her progress.
Soon enough she was standing atop the mountain. She had done it! As she peered out at the vast expanse that lay before her, a profound sadness arose in her. While she had accomplished her goal, she realized that she was so focused first on her progress, then on the very next step, that she didn’t allow herself to stop and enjoy the view along the way.
She realized that constantly looking up at the summit, down at the base, or out at the view was not the right way, nor was only looking directly in front of her.
As she made her descent, she applied the teachings that she had gained from the mountain by focusing mostly on the very next step to make sure that she found her footing and took the right routes, while periodically looking up and down to check her progress, and periodically pausing to look out and enjoy the view.
She recounted that later in her career, with much practice and patience, she developed the skill to be able to do all of these simultaneously: to focus on the next step, while at the same moment having awareness of where she is on the path, and enjoying the view along the way.
Aren’t we all climbing our own mountains in life?
Couldn’t we all benefit from setting clear goals and having unwavering dedication to reaching them, while also being open to learning along the way?
Couldn’t we all benefit from the majority focus on the very next step while periodically looking ‘up’ and ‘down’ to check our progress and pausing to look ‘out’ and enjoy the view (or better yet, holding these different focuses in our awareness simultaneously)?
In whatever form The Mountain takes in our lives, the journey begins with taking a single step.
May we all keep marching onward.
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