Well, I'm sure you've all heard the phrase "don't look down," right? Usually it is uttered on t.v. or in a movie when the main characters find themselves perilously positioned somewhere dangerous and high above the ground. The brave one tells the coward, "don't look down!" That is probably very good advice. But, I learned an equally important phrase last summer. And that is, "don't look UP!"
You see, I was halfway through a very long, grueling hike up a 14,000 foot mountain. Mt. Huron (in Colorado) was our chosen mountain last summer. It barely qualifies as a 14'er because it is something like 14,005 feet tall. But, a 14'er it is. And since we'd been camping at it's base in a remote, high-country spot, we'd set our sights on scaling him. This was my first experience at climbing to the top of such a tall mountain.
Three of my friends and I headed out of camp before dawn. We knew it would take our flat-lander lungs a long time to get to the top. I said I would be happy to just get as high as possible, but down in my heart I knew I wasn't stopping until I reached the summit. I prayed the rain would hold off until we made it, because a storm above treeline is very dangerous. You are the tallest thing in the terrain when that happens because there are no trees! We even joked that we'd huddle below one of our hiking buddies because he stands almost 2 meters tall! He, however, didn't find that so funny!
We huffed and puffed our way to treeline. From that point on, the trail was narrow, rocky, and very, very steep. I had to stop often to catch my breath. My muscles weren't tired, but my lungs had trouble keeping up with the thin air.
Something I learned many years ago when my husband and I first started backpacking was that mountains can play tricks on our eyes. It always looks like the summit is much closer than it actually is. You are forever looking up and thinking you are almost there. Then, an hour later you still find yourself hiking and thinking, "Oh! I'm almost there! It looks so close!" It becomes a vicious cycle. When you are climbing smaller peaks, like in the Smoky Mountains, this cycle doesn't torture you for very long, really. But, I learned in Colorado, that looking up can get very discouraging.
When you've been hiking all day, your mind gets weary. You start out all excited. You can't wait to clear the trees and see the rocky top of the mountain. Once you do reach treeline, your excitement starts up again because you can actually see the peak. You can visualize yourself sitting on the top, taking in the 360 degree view of limitless, surrounding mountain peaks. But...this is a very long hike. You still have hours of walking ahead of you. Your adventure soon turns into a battle of sheer willpower. How badly do you want to reach the top? You start to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Willing yourself to keep going.
Here is where looking up gets dangerous. If you are pushing yourself to the max...forcing yourself to climb in spite of feeling like your lungs are going to explode...looking up can break your will. When you look up and see how far you have to go, you start to estimate how many hours it might take you, and your brain starts to think it can't be done. "Why bother?" it seems to ask your legs and lungs. "Why are you putting yourself through this?" Your heart screams, "I want to see the top! I want to see the top!" So you trudge onward, upward. At this point in my climb, I often forbid myself to look farther than 10 or 15 feet ahead of me. I literally focus on one step at a time. I set my sights on a rock ahead of me on the trail and I make myself walk until I reach it. Then, if I need to take a breather, I rest a few seconds, then pick a new rock on the trail ahead, or the beginning of another switchback, and keep moving. I don't look up. I can't let myself. I can't let my brain feed me the lies that the climb can't be done or that the climb isn't worth the trouble.
Are you seeing any parellels here? Perhaps a lesson about life? I sure do. In fact, this idea came to me as I was climbing that mountain a few months ago. Let's face it. Life is not easy. Often it is full of one difficult mountain to climb after another. And if your life is like mine, when it rains it pours. If the car breaks down, then so does the furnace. If one person in the family is sick, then everyone gets it. Just when you think life might be going well for a change, someone close to you dies. Honestly, life itself can be a vicious cycle. And often the people around you, and the world in general, will tell you lies. They'll tell you to just give up. They'll tell you to give in. They'll tell you life isn't worth the fight. So...is it worth it?
I can tell you that life IS worth the bother. I haven't always felt this way, but I have learned that if you stay focused on each and every day...live in the moment...the trail of life is possible to climb. Instead of focusing on the what-ifs and the enormity of whatever problem is hitting you, try just living for today. Take it one step at a time. Don't believe the lies that the world feeds you. When you are knocked down, get back up. Time and time again. Try to do all that you possibly can in just this one day to get to tomorrow in one piece.
One thing I didn't mention about the idea of not looking up...it's not exactly true that I didn't look up during my climb up Mt. Huron. In fact, I looked up quite often. But, I didn't look up in the direction of the mountain peak. Instead, I turned around, looked at where I had already been, and then I looked up to the sky. I thanked God for how far he'd allowed me to walk and I prayed that he would help me get to the top.
This applies in life, also. I encourage you to look up. But look up high enough to see past all of the stress, deadlines, bills, bad relationships, and pain. Even if you've made some really bad decisions in life that have caused yourself or others a lot of pain, tell yourself that today is a new day and nobody is perfect. You've survived what life has thrown at you, and you can make today count. Look above all of that earthly baggage and pain and look up to the One who knows you best. Who can give you the strength to make it another day. He can...and will help you if you ask.
As for the trip last summer....I did make it to the top! It was one of the most amazing, physically challenging things I've accomplished so far on this earth. I really felt like I was on top of the world.
So, lace up your boots and get out there. Put one foot in front of the other and conquer whatever mountain lies before you. If the big picture, the summit, is too scary and discouraging, then focus on the first steps. You can do it! I dare you.
