I remember topping the rise–the one where you come to the crest of the proverbial hill of your life and find yourself looking down the slope toward the rest of it.
I read a lot—always have—usually at night when I go to bed, and one night when I picked up my book, the words on the pages were blurred. The next morning, I called the boss and told him I thought I was going blind. After I told him why, he laughed, then made reference to my age and told me I probably needed reading glasses.
It was a shocking development. I wasn’t ready to be old. I’m too young, I said. I was a bit miffed as well, thinking there should be a long level stretch before the sudden drop.
And so, I took a hesitant step down the slippery slope, and stepped right on some loose rocks, which sent me head-over-heels down the slope. Finally, the slope leveled off, and I came to a sliding stop against a jagged rock. After dusting myself off I decided it would be wise to take things a little slower, and as soon as I slowed down, I started to see that things weren’t so bad. So, I decided I should enjoy the scenery and do something as I wandered this new path. I thought about things past and dreams I’d had; dreams when I’d thought the hill was a mountain, and things atop it would be glorious and last forever.
Should I go back for those dreams, I wondered. No, I decided. That’s not possible. But, I could dream new dreams; give myself something to shoot for; maybe not the moon this time, but something not quite so high and unreachable. I looked at the valley of life all around me and realized it was surrounded by hills and mountains, begging for someone to climb them.
And so I moved on into the valley and that’s where you find me today; dreaming dreams of rainbows, hoping there is indeed a pot of gold at the end of the one I choose to follow; the one I see on top of that mountain right over there.
I need to go now. I’ve got a mountain to climb.