Life is Like...

...a strenuous hike.

You start out feeling pretty good thinking, "I've got my water, my hiking shoes, my iPod for some tunes, sunscreen applied, and a bit of enthusiasm."


As you get going, the trail doesn't seem so bad; there are a few tough spots, but nothing you can't conquer.  Continuing on for a while, you start to realize that it may be a little harder than you anticipated, but still, you keep going forward.  "It's not that bad, plus, the destination can't be that far now." After a water break or two, you feel rejuvenated and move ahead, with more gumption than before.  And soon, ah ha! There it is!  The goregous lake you've been looking for!

You take a seat near the shore and breathe in the beauty of the picturesque scene.  Children wading in the water, people sun-tanning, birds chirping...all seems well with the world. 

Until you realize that there is more.

This is not the end.

There is a waterfall that is supposed to rival the lake in beauty and it is supposedly very much worth the hike to the top of the canyon.  At least that is what a friendly passer-by says.  You have a choice to make.  Stay here, being content with the view of the lake, or continue on and find the waterfall, though the path may be longer. 

Being the kind of person who believes in fully experiencing life, you make the choice to continue to the waterfall. 
 
At first, you think, "This isn't so bad.  Those people before me said it was a difficult hike.  They must've been weaklings." It seems easy for a while actually.  You start to feel pretty good about this choice.

Until you start rock climbing.
 
Initially there are just a few boulders to climb over, but soon, there are trails of boulders leading straight up and you can hardly see anything but rock paths.  People are stopped all along the mountainside trying to find the energy to make it up the next section.  You stop, take in some deep breaths, drink some refreshing water, and plow ahead.  "I can hear the waterfall, it can't be too much farther."
 
Hours pass, the sun once high overhead starts to lean toward the west, but just a touch, still blazing all around you.  The water seems to come from the sky...you may never reach it.  You start to believe that you are not strong enough, you fall a few times, your tired feet start to slip on the treacherous rocks, you walk off the path for a bit, thinking there might be a better way to get there.  Eventually you are consumed by two conflicting feelings: 1) There is no way I can make it.  I am beat.  This mountain has conquered me and I cannot possibly move another step.  2) If I quit now, I'll never know how close I was to accomplishing this goal.  I'll never know how far away from victory I may have been.  

Another choice.

And to make matters worse, it seems your body may actually be too weak.  You may, in truth, be short of what you need to be to reach the summit.  So how can you continue? 

And then someone offers a smile, a hand up, and encouraging word.  In that instant you have been given a way to fill part of that gap you have in your own abilities.  You can continue on. 

It isn't easy.  The rest of the way is probably the most difficult part of the entire four hours you have been pulling yourself up this moutain; you are tired, sore, scraped up, and feeling so weary, and the path continues to be grueling.   "I must be close now."

Close is relative, but you look down the canyon and see that you are much closer than you were at the lake.  You are miles nearer the waterfall than you would have been if you had remained still.  But alas, not there yet.

After watching several groups of people who have decided to turn around and head back down the mountain, you start to feel that you have seen enough.  Maybe there is no waterfall.  Maybe it is all a clever scheme to get people to believe in something non-existent.  You know this can't be, but it feels so much simpler to just follow those people back down.

Even with those doubts, you choose to keep hiking.

And with several more bouts of effort that come from within and without yourself, and a few hundred yards, you finally reach the waterfall! There is an overwhelming joy at having made it, and those you have nonchalantly been hiking "with" are also happy for you.  There are congratulations all around, even from people you didn't realize cared about your hike.  The relief and pride you feel in reaching the destination is worth it!

 

And most hike analogies would end there.  But this one does not. 

You still have to get back down the mountain. 

Though easier than going up, it is still a difficult path.  This time, you know the way, you know the path, and you know the distance.  It seems to take much less time, there is less hopelessness, and your biggest obstacle is your deteriorating strength, thankfully, not your deteriorating spirit.  As a matter of fact, your spirit is much bolstered. 

You are at the bottom of the mountain in no time.  You pass the lake-sitters, you even offer friendly advice that the waterfall is worth the hike.  You can't believe you are encouraging others along on that strenuous path, but you know the reward and can't hide your excitement and appreciation of the experience.  Each time someone, looking weary, asks "How much further?" you are able to give them a hand up, smile, and reassure them that the way is tough, but worth it. 

And when you look up, you know that you did a good thing.  You may be spent.  You may be covered in dirt, sweat, and yes, maybe even tears, but you did the thing you thought impossible.
 
You helped others, as they helped you.   You fought yourself, your negative thoughts, your positive thoughts.  You wrestled with difficult choices and made decisions. You faced the challenges in many different ways: anger, tears, discouragement, passion, determination, and faith.  You learned your strengths, you experienced your weaknesses.  You learned a little more about yourself, and you even became something. 

And that, is where this analogy ends. 

 (Thanks google images for giving me pictures of the hike I forgot to take my camera on!)