Slipping

On a recent trip to Colorado I went hiking in Cheyenne Mountain park. There's a waterfall tourist attraction there, which was nice, and lots of appropriate trails to take, that were worn down, so you knew where to go. I hiked the stairs up to the top of the waterfall and stood on the bridge. I looked to my left and families were starting their trek up the beaten path to god knows where, but I'm sure it was great. Then I looked to the right and there's this hillside of a mountain to climb. I didn't see where it lead, but there were rocks a little bigger than my foot randomly placed, and also some larger rocks and I thought hmm...those look a perfect distance for my feet and hand placement. So, even though I'm pretty sure it's frowned upon, I ventured up it. Now, it wasn't so high that I could fall and die. I think at best I would have sprained (or possibly broken) an ankle or maybe even an arm, but I was recovering from a rough morning and a funk so bad that my favorite dog in the world licking my tears couldn't even pull me out of, so I said 'what the hell.'
It wasn't actually that hard of a climb. I took my time and I placed my feet with my sturdy tennies on the smaller rocks, and they didn't budge, and I grabbed a hold of the rock above me, making sure it didn't shift before I put my weight into it, and it was fine too. It wasn't a complete vertical height, it had an angle to it, but you definitely couldn't just walk up it, you had to hands and feet climb it. Reflecting on that moment makes me think of how I live my life. I'm not afraid to take chances, chances that could lead to harm in some way, but I'm definitely slow and cautious. Is this sturdy enough for me? Will this fall if I lean on it or drop me? I test before I go. I'm not a jump-right-in-er, except for this one time (same trip) where I leaped off a 20 feet (or higher) cliff into freezing cold water under the Royal Gorge bridge in Canon city. That, by the way, was the most exhilarating moment of my life. I didn't think. I just swam across the  river from my white water rafting group, climbed up on the rock, and walked off, not taking the time to stop and look down first because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have jumped. But back to the rock climbing story.
So I was nearing the top and realized it was just the road. Like the road you drive on through the mountains. There was a silver rail, so people don't drive off the road (or at least make it a little more difficult to). I was a little disappointed that that was all there was, but then came the hard part. There was no more rocks and just tiny pebbles, that I knew would be slippery, but I would have to cross them to get to the road and climbing down definitely wasn't an option. I went super slow and still slipped a little sliding a brief moment, but managed to scoot up on my bottom that little last way and climbed over that rail to the road. I looked down at the people below and it was actually even higher than I thought. But I did it. Mission accomplished.
When I got to that point when I realized all that I was climbing to was just a road, it makes me think about my life. I feel like I take the hard way, sometimes. I could've walked the real path that has been worn down by travelers. I even could've hiked or driven on the actual road, apparently, if I had known to go around. But the thing is. We don't know it's the "hard" way, until we've gone up it and looked back. I knew it would be a challenge, and I had hoped the top would've been a little more rewarding, but I still felt proud I had accomplished it. I put so much weight into a goal or an event. I think that it'll be the best thing even when I get there, but most of the time I'm a little let down. It's still cool in a way, and I enjoy it, but I think I build things up too much in my head; sometimes without even realizing it. Sometimes a little slip like that makes me pause and gather my thoughts, but I usually continue on. Sometimes from a slip, like my wet bare feet the other day from the rain, on my tile floor, leads to a pulled leg muscle that causes me to walk with a limp for a few days. Some slips in life leave a little reminder, or take time to move past. They're not always instantaneous recovery, like on the rocks.
Sometimes I feel myself slipping into "woe's me" time, or just "I need someone physically and emotionally to love me in this very moment" time. And since I don't have that in that moment, I start to slip into sadness. Sometimes I can feel it coming but even with my attempts to change it or distract myself, it doesn't always stop. It doesn't always have to snowball, though. If I take action to change my mood I can keep from spiraling deeper and deeper. I don't always have to dwell, but it still has to run it's course. It doesn't immediately go away, or have a triumphant win, like it did on those last few feet on the mountain side. A slip is a slip. It might take more than a few moments to get over, but it will happen. I think what pushes me along is LOVE. The hope of the love that's out there searching for me. And I have a feeling that when it comes it will be worth the wait and more than I could ever hope for or dream possible for myself. That's the hope I live by. The wait is long. It's a slow climb up a mountain and not a quick drive on paved road, but the end result is the top. Whatever that "top" may be.
This time I leave you with song lyrics. Because besides love, what's better in this world than music?? Nothing.

Healing song by Bebo Norman: " ...and in a world that broke me down. Oh I'm standing up, oh but not alone. 'cause this is a healing song, oh and I've got a heart that fails
But love is pushing me along, I'm lifting up above this veil
This is a healing song, oh and I don't know if you can tell
But love is pushing me along
I'm pressing up against the rail, pressing up against the rail."