It ebbs and flows.
You spend what seems like forever climbing to the top of your mountain, you have the glory at the top followed by the descent, much easier than the climb, only to see another mountain. And another. And another. Holy Moly!
Hundreds. Hundreds of seemingly neverending mountains ahead of you. You have a choice. To keep climbing them, which will be hard, and nothing is guaranteed to come of it, but the thrill of the journey itself.
Or, you decide that one was enough, because it was hard and although you recognise that parts were good and enjoyable maybe you will just set up camp where you are now. It seems nice. You let the others climb the rest of the mountains and move on. You don’t feel lonely because there’s a continuous flow of people coming past you on their journey, so you feel like you are living life to the full, but you wonder what it would feel like to be one of them always on the move. You admire them. Telling yourself that they are lucky they have the energy for that. Telling yourself that you are content. But deep within you, there is a desire to see what’s over the next peak. It looks big. A hard trip. Years pass and you feel that maybe too long has passed now, and its too late to start climbing them again. You tell yourself it is a silly notion and your family and friends joke at the mention of you ever climbing any more mountains.
Then, one day.
One day. You wake up and see that big mountain and you say to yourself, no, you scream to the mountain…
“I am coming now!”
And you go.
It’s not too late it’s never too late. You can always wake up and make the choice.
“The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson