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climbing up the ever ladderbfellow
contemplation along the hike
  • So I was hiking up a mountain, struggling to breathe when I realised that life is pretty much a hike. 


    You see a peak, and think: ‘that’s it, if you make it to that peak you’re at the top’, only to realise that no, there are a fuck ton more faux-peaks waiting for you and every time you think you’ve made it, you’re mistaken. By the time you realise this, it would’ve been too late to stop and turn back, so the only way to go is up, up, up. One step against gravity followed by another. 


    Along the trail, you encounter some smooth, easy paths. Some paths lead you down, only to make you hike up again. There are steps large enough for two people to sit on, and there are steps so narrow that extra caution is required. You feel like giving up a million times, until you look back and see that you’ve made it further that you thought you’ll ever come. 


    And finally, with fresh air filling your lungs through rapid breaths, you’re at The Peak. Capitalised for dramatic effect and to highlight the fact that this is The Real Fucking Peak. The view is the best you’ve ever seen. The wind is in your hair, which is now a hideous mess, but it doesn’t matter because you feel like you’re on top of the world. You spend some time there, maybe snap a few photos with the sign that proclaims you conquerer of the peak. You let the sense that you’re an accomplishment seep into your blood, and then downward you go. 


    Funny how people think that walking down is the easy part. 


    The path down is steep, wet, and dark. The steps are slippery. Your entire body is tense.  You trip, and suddenly the descent to the ground now feels much harder than your ascent. As your legs shake, shake, shake, and your ankles throb, you start thinking to yourself: ‘what the fuck did I do to deserve this? I laboured myself up, the way down ought to be easy. This is fucking unfair.’


    But again, it’s too late to turn back. The only way to go is down, and so downwards you go. It’s hard to breathe, and the trail leads you through rotting leaves and tiny streams. You look only at the next step because it’s too fucking steep for you to not be a little daunted if you look anywhere further. 


    It fees like a lifetime, but finally, finally you see brightly coloured tents in the distance.   At that point you really are contemplating giving up, but that little sign of civilisation fills you with energy and hope of respite. Your legs continue to tremble, but you trudge your way down. One cautious step with gravity followed by another. 


    Then at last—there it is, the ground. The very same level you were on when you started your hike. It feels different, because when you started, your body wasn’t aching, and you sure weren’t out of breath. 


    As you settled down at the tent, slurping down instant noodle, you think: ‘maybe this is the point of it all’, and you smile, because this is the best damn soup you’ve ever tasted. 

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