Image by ThreeIfByBike, www.flickr.com/photos/three_if_by_bike/ CCBY-SA2.0 (desaturated)
(Climbing the mountain of success – Part I)
“Man does not simply exist but always decides what his existence will be, what he will become the next moment. By the same token, every human being has the freedom to change at any instant.” — Viktor Frankl
What’s truly harder: quitting and turning back, or committing and driving forward?
Striding boldly into the forest that separates you from your dream at the top of the mountain, you are emboldened by your own bravery, and a not insignificant dose of adrenaline.
Step after step, you’ve launched into your journey. You’re in it, now: you’re carving your own path up the mountain.
Your progress is steady. It feels good. You’re proud. You feel strong. You’ve got a backpack full of tools, and you know how to use them…at least you hope so.
Progress feels good.
Then you start to get sore. Then tired. Then sweaty, itchy, almost hyper-sensitive. Hunger and exhaustion set in.
Night is coming.
It’s going to be long and low.
This isn’t so fun anymore. It isn’t so easy. The biggest challenge is no longer just making the decision to climb the mountain – now, it’s work. Honest work, but the kind of effort you’re not used to in your ‘normal’ life. You don’t feel able. In fact, you feel pretty clumsy, well outside your comfort zone.
“Nothing worth doing is easy,” you repeat to yourself. You’re right, but it doesn’t help much.
Every time the path gets muddy and the way forward is too dark and hazy to see, quitting seems so easy.
Still, you feel your progress, and there’s enough newness and scariness and excitement that quitting doesn’t seem so… Necessary.
Give it time… Very soon, quitting will feel very, very necessary.
The first time you trip and twist your ankle…
The first time you stumble over some venomous or teeth-laden forest creature…
The first time you do something truly foolish, slap your forehead and say, “How the hell could I be so stupid!”
The Resistance is hunting you, haunting you, here in the forest. This is his playground, not yours. You are not home here. You are not welcome here.
Read more inside…