Welcome Friends -
Sorry I missed last week. Was visiting family and dealing with the aftermath of a storm and then some business issues that came up.
This week’s post is written with a pondering heart while resting on ‘the hill’ and is a gift for each of you who ‘climb the hill’ and ponder.
I hope you enjoy….
The Hill
It is dark as I climb the hill,
so dark I see no horizon. No moon. No stars. Only dark. I move slowly, arms outstretched, feeling for trees to steer clear of, branches to grab and stones to avoid so as not to trip and stumble. I am sore, bruised and weary. What is this hill I climb? Why am I here? Why do I climb it? What sits at the top? Why do I seek it?
I stop and sit -to rest and to ponder these things. Sitting thus, looking down into the blackness from where I have come, it looks no different than from where I am going – all is darkness.
Why am I climbing this hill?
Because it’s here.
But why am I here?
Because I’m alive.
I live – therefore I climb.
I’ve climbed this hill all my life. When I was born the hill was small. It was easy to climb – more fun than effort. I laughed a lot then, not focused on climbing but more intent on having fun. I don’t think I thought it was a hill then. I don’t think I thought much about anything then.
I think I was just happy and enjoyed that the hill was there.
I didn’t ask questions about the hill back then.
I was about nine when I started climbing the hill for real. Of course, the hill had grown too. It was higher and broader and it wasn’t just a smooth grassy slope any longer, neither. It was growing trees and bushes. Some were rooted well making a strong purchase when grabbed.
Others had shallow roots that pulled out causing me to slip and fall backwards.
I slipped a lot then. But, I’d pick myself up and continue climbing.
During the years that followed I continued to climb the hill and the hill continued to change. It became steeper and the at times the grass gave way to sand and shale giving me little traction, forcing me to my knees – crawling more than climbing. Rocks began protruding out from the ground, some very small, many very large needing to be shuffled around or crawled over.
Sheer cliffs rose in my path, needing to be scaled.
There were fissures, crevices, wide gaps and craggy outgrowths along the way. Deep caverns and dark caves presented themselves to be either explored, ignored or to disappear into, swallowed up by the hill. I avoided those places.
Sometimes springs and waterfalls sprouted out from the hill, some clean, pure and refreshing – some bitter and poisoned. Some were small trickles that shimmered and gurgled…
others were torrents that threathened to carry me away.
There was a time when the hill was angry with me. It fought me, threw rocks and stones at me, sprouted thistles and briars in its bushes and grew hard, sharp thorns in its trees. I was bloodied and bruised, scrapped and torn. I fought the hill back and I kept climbing.
Always climbing.
After a while, the anger left the hill and I didn’t fight it any more. But the obstacles remained. They were fewer and spaced more apart but they seemed larger and were more rooted with greater resistance than before. The trees became massive and were firmly planted into the hill. I can’t pull them out so I’ve learned to go around them.
Sometimes there’s strange animals sharing the hill with me.
They stare and watch my progress.
Sometimes they scare me.
As I sit and ponder these things, I realize I’ve never understood the hill. Once I started to climb, I considered it a chore – as work – as my destiny. I think back to when I was that small child playing innocently at the base of the hill, loving the hill, thinking of it as my friend – my place to play in. I wonder when the hill changed and from where did all these rocks, thorns and dark caves come from.
When did it cease being fun? Being my friend?
Then I realize, the hill didn’t change – I did. It was my loss of innocence my love for the hill that caused the change. I brought the thorns and briars. I created the cracks and gaps in the ground.
And I wonder why it’s taken me so long to know this.
I live and therefore I climb.
I don’t know what I will find at the top of the hill, but I know someday I’ll reach it. Will it be the end of the journey or the end of the beginning? Are there other hills to climb? Will there be rest and fulfillment or will there be nothing?
I rouse myself from my musings and I notice it’s not as black as it was. The slightest diffusion of light particles filter into the blackness, too few and scattered to be called a glow. But I welcome them into my soul, these beacons of enlightenment. Along with the light comes a peace. A peace that displaces the questions and fear. Whatever lies at the top of the hill – it will be okay. There will be more hills to climb. This is only a foothill – a proving ground for the real mountains I’ve yet to climb.
The dawn breaks over the crest of the hill and the rays of the sun ignite my hill like a blazing torch. It is radiant and glows bright like fire. I lift my eyes and all around me are hills and on each hill there is a person and they are all climbing. Some are near the top, some near the bottom, many sit as I have… pondering their hill.
They live and therefore they climb…
no
…we climb and therefore we live.
I rise, refreshed – renewed, I understand now and I turn to face my hill, looking into the radiant light flooding the top like a golden crown.
Squinting my eyes, I look ahead – I see a grassy slope…
…the Creator awaits me.
I climb.
What would you say about your hill? Add a paragraph to this post in the comment section. Tell us what you would say – we want to know.
Until Next Time:
Embrace Life’s Bridges – For they Define Who You Are
dk Levick
Yes, my hill has had a lot of rocks & thorns along the way, some of which have been unbearable & devastating in the natural. It has been an ‘uphill’ battle in which the Lord has given me the grace to keep on climbing. I too look forward to seeing my Creator as I climb my final quest. Thanks for making me look into myself.
My hill was easy for a while and then it became a sharp brambled mess.But I’m getting up there in spite of it all.
Duane you are a fabulous writer. I enjoy your descriptions and the way you put things..
Thank you Dorothy. Just remember you have a grassy knoll at the top of the hill where someone waits for you
My hill has tornadoes that roar across, picking up anything, even the trees, rooted so deep. I climbed toward the top, and was a victim of a violent crime. The tornado came from the dark, lifted me, and threw me to the ground. I brushed myself off, tried to ignore the deep gash in my spirit, and up I go.
A tornado roars across the hill–and I get a phone call that my 21 year-old son has died. I am grabbed from the ground and wake up in a deep, dark cave thousands of miles away and can’t find the ‘old’ me that disappeared in the storm. I put my horror and despair in my backpack and start the journey home.
Half way to my hill, a tornado lifts me from the valley where I’ve fallen into a deep sleep.. A phone call. One of my twins has been in a bad motorcycle accident. Bad. Very Bad. I find myself in the desert. Hot. Parched. Tormented by the sun. I am willing to starve, but both my son and his twin brother need me. I crawl on sand in the dark of night,
And finally, I’m back to the base of my hill, only to have a lightning storm strike me. My other twin sells ecstasy to an undercover DEA agent. 10 mo in federal prison for this all-American boy.
How, you might ask, did I get as far as I have on the hill today? With the strength of one word: Invictus. ( Latin. Spiritually unconquerable.) I am strong, to show my children, what strong is. I grieve, to show my children that grief won’t kill you. I scream to God, to show my children that despair is not a death sentence and calling to for help is okay. I survived. I learned how to ride the tornado and wake up to continue the journey.
And it’s been hard. But I still: Love life, Love giving. Love to be compassionate, love to forgive and be forgiven. My journey had made me authentic, spiritually strong and glad to be alive.
And thankful of all the strength, knowledge and self awareness this journey up the hill has given in return.
SOmetimes our hill becomes our enemy. Mine fought me too and I fought back. But I believe there is a strength inside that can see us through if we allow it to. You’ve had a lot thrown at you on your hill but you haven’t allowed the tornados to overcome you. Feel proud of that and know that those around you see your ‘invictus’ and when you scream at God, He’ll scream along with you. Thank you for sharing with me.
This has made me stop and think of the hill in my life. Many a times it has be rough and I have fallen and stumled. Now I stop and sit and look at what is before me. Time to pick myself up and move on. Someday this journey will end and my time will have brought to the top of the hill . May God’s grace help over the rocks and rough ground to reach the top. May I find peace at the top and him waiting with open arms.
Yes, my hill I am still crossing as things continue to get in the way. Life can be an ever driving force that can either forsake you or make you stronger. Whether a person goes on alone or whether they have surrounding forces holding them strong, they are there.
I am strong and will continue to climb my hill. It just seems to get bigger as I get smaller.
My thought, challenge your hills along lifes highway, and search for the truth.
As always, you leave me thoughtful and searching. Excellent writing. You always convey and it gets received. Thank you.
Having our writing ‘received’ is the highest compliment in my opinion. Thank you Sonia. I appreciate that coming from you.
What a wonderful post! Such a perfect, thoughtful comment on life. Your writing is so gripping – you captured me on line one and kept me interested all the way through.
Thank you so much for your warm words Mari. I’m glad you enjoyed.
There is nothing truer than what you said DK – the hill didn’t change, you did – as much as I did and all of us did. The hill felt betrayed like a lover who has ceased to be understood and loved hence. Fun became a chore since I became a betrayer. I know now like you do and will return to innocence and loving. I will try today to make it the first day of my return and I will try never to come back. Thank you for this!
Kriti – you have captured exactly what I was feeling when I wrote the post. Your statements are so true and pure. I wonder if we ever fully come to realize just how much we change our hills. Maybe someday we’ll know. What a world it will be then. Thank you