Bites

Sometimes to feel whole you have to devour a mountain. Bite by bite until you are stuffed over-full. Using all your senses until you feel so complete that your heart hurts. Then you can't decide if it is because you have so much, or if it's the memory of the previous emptiness. Sometimes it seems better to never know what you could have, because of the emptiness after losing it. Once lost, a pearl of great worth is never forgotten, but cherished forever. It brings joy in its keeper's soul, even as it brings sorrow from its departure. Yet, even in sorrow I suppose it is still better to have once been intoxicated with joy, than to have never felt it at all.

I climbed my mountain today, and I met a little boy, who was running down a trail. He asked my name, and I asked his. "Zach" was his answer, simply stated, and the exchange quickly forgotten. What will that Zach, with shockingly blond hair, and pools of brown eyes, become? Will he be able to experience joy so that he might know sorrow?

Today is a melancholy day. As I climb my mountain to my accustomed perch, I see breathtaking red leaves that dust the tops of dying, green leaves. Excitement, for a new season. But sorrow, to mourn the loss of a bright and happy summer. Excitement, that days progress to one day that might permanently make the whole. But sorrow, that mourns the passing of a deeply appreciated youth.

Do we live in the tangible world around us, or do we live in the world created by our mind? The tangible world is stark, rough, and unbearable---yet it stuns my senses, and bite by bite, it makes me whole. My one hope is that people appreciate the tangible, but learn to live in their own creation. Because you can only take reality bite by bite, all together it becomes a deadly intoxication that recklessly takes away your breath.

My creation has lost what once was a pearl of great worth, and so I climb my mountain. To become whole, and to discover what else I can. Discovery too, can bring sorrow, but is that not worth the initial joy? You can believe in destiny, but a wise man once told me you have to build the bridges, or destiny will never reach you.

My hours of homework I left at the bottom of the mountain. So I could soar to the top. The wind chills, and my mind wishes for times already enjoyed. Now, turn my head to the red leaves and embrace the brilliance of a new season. What once was foreign, will soon become familiar. With familiarity, fear will become joy. Bites of my mountain might fulfill other, future losses---losses that haven't even been gained yet to be lost.

To my future self: remember not to linger too long on the past--for the future is ungraciously ever-present. Enjoy your own creation, because that is what makes sunshine and laughter.

Peace now, for I have devoured a mountain. With crickets, and rocks, and red leaves, and a little boy named Zach. To go back down, leads to hard work, monotony, failures, and mistakes. But when those too squeeze my heart, I can once again devour this mountain, bite by bite, and become whole. And if I had no mountain-I'd have my own creations, thus we discover insanity's necessity. Then I could resist reality and build a bridge to my destiny.

My need for completeness is now tucked at the back of my heart. It will come out again on some future day, but for now, my mountain has made me whole. In my youth I realize my need to utilize my mountain for future, all-encompassing, bites. But maturity will bring the wisdom that makes my mountain no longer a necessity, but merely a treasured amenity.

I'd like to dedicate this post to my 10th grade english teacher, who finally convinced me to throw away the accepted format, and my need for an A, and taught me to put my heart on paper.