Her feet hurt badly. Step by step, she has reached the eight straight hour of walking. Walking up in the mountain alone, with her backpack only.
Her hair messy and unwashed for eight days, her clothes muddy, her shoes half destroyed, repaired with a piece of black tape, a drop of sweat falls on her nose from her forehead and she gets half-scared, half-awakened to meet her reality. Can she do this? Can she get to the top of the passage? She brings one foot forward, then the other, every next step is slower, her backpack gets heavier with every centimeter up the mountain, every next breath is shorter and less filling.
The lack of oxygen high in the mountain makes it impossible for her brain to process more than one thought at a time. The sight of her thoughts, gets clearer than ever.
Years of constant fight.
Chasing after a cause to believe in.
Searching for the ultimate fulfillment.
Saving the world.
Public awareness raising. Talking about the cause.
More public awareness raising. Thinking about the cause.
More sleepless nights.
Change the world for the better.
Beat oblivion, do not remain forgotten.
Unconditional dedication and faith.
Loss of purpose.
Has she run out of choices? Is this what it means to be free? Free to be and do what she wanted to, until a full depletion?
Last steps, her freezing fingers and toes are nearly numb, but she gets there. A painful triumph. Her tears freeze as they go down her cheeks. Her slow beating heart knows it is time to surrender. Not to give up, but surrender to what her soul really needs, rather than obey what her ego wants.
The wind embraces her and pulls her hair in all directions. The cliff underneath holds her strong on its shoulders. She has gone a long way to get there. She looks back, down the mountain and sees the image of the girl she has nurtured, her whole life, the image of the girl carrying the ideas she needs to let go of, the ideas, which no longer serve her. She loves this girl, who is no more, who only saw one option, who saw nothing else but the final goal.
Surrender, my love.
Surrender to the tranquility of your soul.
Surrender to the flow.
What makes you happy?
Will you trade all tiny happy things on your thorny path
for the glamorous cravings of your ego?
What matters to you?
It takes courage to follow your heart.
It takes courage to accept oblivion.
It takes courage to appreciate unglamorous little things.
A lot of courage, my love.
It is easier to pursue a well-perceived noble dream
than to pursue the authentic private longings of your soul.
Make space for your soul to wander.
Make space for it to explore.
Leave it alone, unattended.
What makes your soul jump?
It is there, somewhere on your path.
Your soul was always jumping.
But it was not always seen.
Look back, look now, look next.
And just follow.
Maybe your soul has always had its own glamorous dream.
The world needs those who defy order, not followers who obey.
Connected with your soul, you cannot be disconnected from the Earth,
you have a mission on your own.
The culmination is there just to bring the journey. The happiest moments of the journey are the true culmination.
She will get off this cliff, at her own pace, with her own drive, with her own gentle power. Not to bring back the victory from reaching the peak, but to enjoy every little stone laying her path down, to breathe every scent of a flower pleasing her eyes, to face the wind kissing her skin.
She will get off to discover this that she was not looking for, what was locked behind the wall of her ambition for a higher purpose. Striving for perfection has stolen the joy away from so many moments, in which she was trying to find joy.
Surrender to life and allow things to grow out of your own nature.
She steps steadily, in peace and dives deep into her path. Suddenly, there is so much to discover, the horizon feels wider, the sky looks pinker. Suddenly, it is no longer necessary to force herself in order to prove that she ever existed. She embraces the death of her old identity on the other side of the peak and steps with a new spirit into her new own authentic reality.
Do you want to explore more of my Tiny tales or reflections on Hope?
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