If I can do it, you can to

Here is a DUH factor that I have been contemplating: We are all on our own journey. 

 Increasingly, I am aware that each person does their journey their own way. We all have unique influences, beliefs, passions, trainings, culture, wounds, joys, and memories that DIRECTLY contribute to how we sojourn. Our pace. Our stride. The breaths. The destination and the detours. It is beautiful.

But there is an ugly side.

Instinctually, most of us KEEP going sure and steady, planning, dreaming, contributing, and creating no matter what stage of the journey we are on.  We have been trained that way. If we are on a decline - same pace. On a plain - same pace. Incline - same pace.  To all outside observers we must remain happy and adjusted, so no one can tell what stage of our journey we are on. Most of the time, sadly, we don't know what stage of our own journey we are on.

We may acknowledge that we are having a hard time as we ladle soup into the hungry's cup. We may sigh that we are tired even as we attend yet another meeting for a cause that once brought us life. We smile when inside we cry.


This should not be!

Sometimes the path is so steep, the boulders so large, the heat so intense that we need to focus on the path in front of us. And only that. On US! On breathing. On putting one foot in front of the other.
IT IS OKAY to do that.
It's okay to have seasons where we do not contribute anywhere but to ourselves. Its okay to say, "no, not right now, I need to save my energy." It's okay to be so focused on me that I miss you. It's a season. It says to our ever watching world, "if I can do it, than you can to."

When traversing a steep mountain incline all of our endurance, focus, and balance is required. ALL OF IT.

But do we do that? 

EVER?

NO, NO we don't.

We continue to contribute  -  depleted, empty, brain starved of oxygen, legs burning, fatigued from the climb. It is where we live. Giving, performing, out of NOTHING. And we call it duty. We call it life. We call it a necessity. It may be pride. We have lived in this state for so long we think it is normal, varying stages of Survival Mode.

How much of our life is lived in survival mode?

What parts of our life are a direct result of decisions made while IN survival mode? 

WE SHOULD NEVER MAKE MAJOR DECISIONS WHILE ON A STEEP INCLINE. EVER.
                    not for us.
                    not for others.
                    not for a committee.
In fact, we should question EVERY decision we make during those times. I know it is tempting to think we are functioning out of clarity. But we aren't. Its a verifiable impossibility.

What should we do?

When we are climbing -  we  should fuel. Stay the course. Walk slow and sure, one step at a time. We keep our eyes on the path before us, wisely avoiding brambles, boulders, and threats of scary animals (snakes, spiders and the like). We breathe deeply, aware of the importance of air to our lungs.

And we tell ourselves, because we have energy and perspective, that this time will pass. That we will be stronger. We know that we will have an increased reserve to continue on. We do not trip. We do not stumble. We do not run out of air.  We learn lessons. About ourselves. About life. About traversing well. We are tired, but we are aware that it is only for a time. And so we carry on with inner strength to aid our physical strength, secure in the knowledge that life is a series of seasons.

We know we are about to get to a safe place, a plateau. A place to rest and rejuvenate. Rehydrate. Where we will look around us, take in the breathtaking view.
But, not now.

What we (actually) do?

We act like we are on the flat plains.

Note: When we are on the plains, flat and free of debris, we can walk faster. Build resources. Our eyes can scan the horizon. Check the forecast. Take in the view. We take a moment to lay by a calm stream, our fingers lazily training in the chill of the water as we feel the warm sun on our face. Sigh. We are rested. Fed. Smiles come easily. We are strong enough to hold the hands of those who need it. We can USE the wisdom we gained on our recent ascent.

But we are NOT on the flat plains when we are climbing.

Walking as if on a plain while on an incline results in unnecessary stumbles, bloody knees, sometimes broken bones. Our time on the incline is increased as we squander our reserves of sustenance. We end up spilling our water ration as we worry about those around us.

Incline after incline we reach out to pull someone else higher as we lose our own footing. We slip. We fall. We bleed. We bite our lip and try not to cry out too loud. We stand back up and try to continue on, telling ourselves what we did was right. Noble.

We are so weak.  We look around for a hand reaching out to help us and find it not.

Our reserves depleted, we pant to the edge of the trail... sucking in air, wondering what the heck is wrong. We bend over, gasping for oxygen, hungry, tired and overwhelmed. The path stretches up above us for an eternity. We hear the laughter from the other side of the summit. We smell cooking food. We look around, again, for a hand on which to hang. But, no one is offering aid.


So we pitch our tent.... just for the night......

We watch others pass us by. We smile and nod, hoping that they won't see the pain and the tiredness. We breezily give advice about how to climb well. We remember we should be passionate about THINGS and so we try. We hear ways that others are doing good and so we copy.  We think that is the way and mimicry becomes our primary tool.  Too tired to learn OUR lessons. The wisdom of the trail is lost. We live the life of those we observe around us, no energy to hear our own hearts.

Somedays we try.
Everyday we pretend.

Cracked lips. Raspy throat. Dry lungs.

When we get to the plateau we miss it... so depleted, so tired. Declines, what are those? Plains....yeah right.

We call this life. We call this righteousness. We call this love. And we excuse away the fact that this is not LIVING.

The saddest part? We convince ourselves from our tent that barely surviving qualifies us to tell others how to walk. How to climb. How to store up their reserves and how to give. We may have received a bit of wisdom from the trail... but partial wisdom? Is there such a thing?
What are we DOING?  What are we saying? What are we teaching? As if misery and lack of proper planning is a badge of honor.
 _____________________________________________________________________________

We need to open our eyes. We need to admit that some live well. And some survive. We need to be careful from whom we take advice. It is okay to SEE who is weak from an incline and who is weak from squandering resources. It is okay to acknowledge that mimicry is not all right. Its okay to not take every hand offered our way. And it is okay to not offer your own.

Life is not about perfection. Like any trek, it is about inclines AND declines AND plains ... seasons on repeat, the order shuffled and unpredictable. Always one preparing you for the next. If we let it. If we wander well.

Seasons to love and seasons to be loved. Seasons to give and seasons to receive. Seasons to grow and seasons to harvest. On repeat. Each one greater than the one before.

I want to journey well. So that means that sometimes I may be unavailable.
Thanks for understanding.