They are the things that keep me up at night. Honestly, they terrify me; they consume me, drive me. They are not comforting, but unsettling. Their inner sanctum shrouded with suffering and fear. To most, this is the description of a nightmare; to me, this is the essence of my dreams.
I dream of mountains. Mountains that ravage you. Mountains that debilitate your mind before you can reach its looming flanks. Mountains that break down your body and amplify every weakness until they destroys you. Some would ask why dream of these things? Why suffer?
To me, the mountain is the ultimate dream, the ultimate objective. When your body has been demolished and your mind broken, you are open; here you can be pure. You are humbled at the foot of a great creation. Your mind has been opened and the wisdom of the mountain may flow in. You understand that you are small; yet, you have a place.
Here you are broken and can see into yourself. You see your flaws and how they destroyed you. More importantly, you see your strengths and how they drive you.
Climbing mountains terrifies me because I know that I am weak. I know that I will be destroyed. The mountains of my dreams slowly dissolve the barriers I have built up in my mind. The barriers I placed to protect myself from change; barriers that keep me comfortable.
The truth is, I’m not comfortable. I am afraid. This is why I climb mountains: because I am afraid. Mountains break down my fear. They show me who I am inside, behind all my barriers. They humble me and put me in my place. They drive me. They grind in my strengths and grind out my weaknesses.
Mountains are teachers. Mountains are sanctuaries for those of us who are hurting and afraid. Mountains are great cathedrals carved in rock and ice that speak to the soul. Mountains are the essence of my dreams.