Reflections, A Tale of the Mountain

I once read a book called 'The Road Less Traveled'.  I don’t remember much past the first line… “Life is hard”.  Agreed! Whatever choices are made, life is hard.

I walked into a room and forgot why I entered. What was I needing to get? Who was I Looking for?  I gazed past the mirrored doors of the closet.  White walls with human forms danced on canvas. My focus scattered with the dancers as they pressed heavily against my chest. A scream bellowed from deep within. I can’t take it any longer.

An image of a compass flashed through my mind, spinning, stopping.  I followed the arrow and after a long traverse through consolidated chaos I found myself at the base of the mountain.  A mal-de-mer arising from uncertainty. It took over my body first, then my brain. Balance became hard to sustain.

I needed to call it something.  Whatever was happening to me? Not a clinical name but more like a process or a purpose. A redesign, a tearing down of structure that required forgetting, letting go, and dropping out of time.  I’d been pushed to the brink of something, but didn’t know what?  My soul screamed for safety as I questioned the sanity of faith?

Could this be a Calling? Spreading bread crumbs along the way and only for me to notice? A portal to another dimension?

Eyes look up to the purple hue emanating from the mountain.  She stands tall in her glory and takes dominion over the land that surrounds. I am reminded why I am here.

I came to retrieve my splintered soul, to salvage what I can, and get back the intangible essence of who I am. Like chasing a firefly flickering in and out of space and time.

The mountain became my home with living water, clean air, adventure and nature.  Where God could be felt in the silence of the storm.  The idea seemed simple at the time and everything fell into place. I realize now that was the veneer. The hook or disguise to cover the insanity that took over my life.

Attractive in appearance, stammering silently, “faith requires uninhibited action”. To look like a fool is not being weak, but a willingness to follow something only I could see.

I climbed up the hillside through an expansive threshold.  A bird let out of a cage, a deer unsure of the terrain.  The mountain is not static, It changes with the weather, erosion and fire.  The roads diverged, doubt and pride were my options. I don’t intend to become a master of pride but doubt can grant me options. I followed the path of doubt and was grateful for the guardrails. The other could have me slide down its slippery slope.

Below the weathered landscape two unstoppable forces collide, neither side gives in. Friction gave birth to a mountain.  It thundered upward and said .“People have died here, washed away, crushed and vanished.  What makes you think it will be different for you?”

I feel crooked in my gate, my brain slow to respond. No longer nimble in body and mind. The mountain said, “resilience is cultivated over time and idleness is not an option.”

For a moment I doubt my path, is the final lesson the biggest lesson? The part of my soul I’ve been looking for all along? Is that what’s in front of me? Like a howl from my center I am here without a plan. My last act, an extraordinary victory.  I can see it, just in front of me, just out of reach.

Seen and unseen forces influence my mood. I lose track of time. Obliged by the forces of nature the sun begins to set.  The moon, almost full, rose up from the horizon. A tinge of pink and peach dance in the sky.  Nothing can stop it.

Few people lose their mind and live to tell about it. I am one of those people. Called to a conversation beyond the echo chambers of my head I learn to walk beside limitations and realize how to trust. 

Faint spots, uneven lines, and squinting eyes. Soft words emit from my cracked lips, time shows its secrets on the surface.  A culmination of life's deposits bubble up from underneath. Each worn like a badge stitched to a costume, vaguely resembles its character anymore.  I look down at the land. An end and a new all at once. The crowning moment of truth.  A plot destined to tell a tale of things getting better.

I close my eyes and say hello to my Spirit.  My heart opens and nectar pours out, joy and sadness weave together the screenplay and characters I’ve grown to love.  The future synchronizes and coordinates with the present. Timelines converge and a faint pulse reaches across from another dimension beckoning me to walk in both worlds.


Karen Elaine Olson