The Day I Climb a Mountain

Yes, I just had my first climb. It was very exhausting. Many times I gasped for breath. Then I had to drink water immediately to soothe my tired and dried throat. And here’s the thing, I sweat like hell. I’m not actually the sweaty type so I was amazed how the activity made me sloppy.

However, no matter how tiring, it was very engrossing at the same time. Walking between tall shrubs and trees. Stepping over some vines that slit my skin. Being bitten by ants which sting long enough for me to feel. And the dizzying narrow, high cliff that we have to walk on. It all forced me to be alert about my sorrounding. It led me to pay attention and kept my mind from wandering. That made the trip wonderful. I was able to free my head from imagining all sorts of things and give my full attention to what’s in front of me: the danger that awaits with one wrong step and of course, the breathtaking view.

I was there. I walked amidst the wilderness. I felt the mud on my feet and slid down. I held through the strong shrubs that kept me from falling down the cliff. I soaked into the cold water feeling relieved by its dampness. And saw the picturesque view from the top of the mountain. I was the one who went through all of it. I knew because the vivid picture of it still lingered in my mind.

The whole experience was very exhilarating. It freed me from all the thoughts that would otherwise bug me had it not been such a challenging trip. I was able to live in that moment. And that in itself was priceless.