Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Distant Mountains

Distant Mountains

An image sometimes appears within of a peaked mountain, sharp and foreboding, seemingly impassable. There is nothing inviting about this jagged rock – it stands as a threat and taunt as though saying, “You shall not pass!”

OK, fine, one responds. I don’t WANT to pass!

But the image also implies movement – TOWARD the mountain! Like it or not, there a definite sense of getting closer, as of a destiny that cannot be avoided.

Not surprisingly, this impression generates a lot of emotional angst, feelings of helplessness, impending doom and unavoidable loss.

From a distance the mountain seems utterly hostile and unwelcoming. One supposes there is no possible path either through or around it. The imagination conceives a bitter and fruitless struggle with unforgiving elements resulting in sure annihilation and death.

After this image has come repeatedly, one begins to realize it is conveying a message. There is something inside the person that needs to be faced - some kind of awareness or experience is looming that seems infinitely scary and insurmountable.

One’s heart quails and wants to give up without even trying.

But along with this image comes something else, as though a little companion was journeying in your pocket.

“Just take the next step,” the tiny fellow says. There is a note of encouragement in its voice, a tone of subtle confidence. It KNOWS something.

Somehow you do it. You take the next step.

“Just take another step,” the whispery voice says again from your pocket.

You feel not quite so alone now. The foot moves forward, the path is progressed incrementally, the view shifts slightly.

Time after patient time, the voice bids you toward that menacing mass of rock and rubble that looks so impenetrable. It never falters, though there are times your fears drown out its soft assurance.

“You can do it,” the voice says again, never upset with pause or delay. “You ARE doing it.”

The days pass, the feet move falteringly along, and you gradually realize that there IS a path leading into and through that mountain.

The path is opening before you.

And you never would have known about it except for one thing:

You took the next step.


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. Amen to little Polly Pocket! ;D

  3. CD, thank you for this. Yesterday was like that for me. I found my self on the bathroom floor experiencing what seemed to be insurmountable sadness and fear, stripping me of all defenses. I never thought I would find myself in that position in sobriety. "Sharp and foreboding... jagged rock", it was a long awaited entry in to my hearts memory and today's reality. Although I don't feel a bit funny today, it is true what you wrote, the scenery did change, enough. Z