3: Patience
The minute I decided to walk slower than ever before was the moment I began climbing that mountain...
On St. Patrick's Day this year I climbed a mountain. Well I went to school and work and did normal stuff, but I also hiked 12 switchbacks to Y Mountain. This was my sixth time hiking it and I HAVE NO CLUE WHY.
I started off super strong—maybe almost too strong. I had headphones in and my pink Nikes and no water bottle failz. I made each stride strong and quick. I was going to get up this mountain in 30 minutes because I've done it before.
One minute in and I was already facing steep trials. *Cue church metaphor about hiking mountains and learning things* But really. On this hike I learned, once again, the meaning of life and family and personal accomplishment.
I would make it up a switchback and rest for 5-10 minutes at each turn. I tried to enjoy the city view, but the pounding heartbeat in my brain overtook any relaxing thoughts. I kept walking and pausing, stopping and resting.
If you want to know how much I was hurting, look at this text message exchange between me and my youngest sister. So maybe I exaggerated a little, and I'm a fairly active person, but for some reason my speed and the inclines and my breath were all not having it. My sister's advice was simple and almost too obvious: "You have all night. Take it slow."
That's what I did. Oh, did I take it slow. I was going so slow up that mountain that I wondered if other people thought I was attempting the world's longest hike time. Hikers passed me up the trail and then passed me again coming down the mountain. One guy even had jeans on. There was also a shirtless, tatted, bearded man (my sister's dream) who ran up the mountain and did push-ups at each rest stop. And I was going slower than anyone else.
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But *here comes the cliche analogy* after I slowed down, I never had to stop again. I finished seven more switchbacks without stopping. I was able to focus on the music, the weather, the mountain. I could hear my own thoughts and began to have fun. I stopped counting turns. Then I turned a switchback and saw the Y.
Each month I focus on an attribute to work on. January was submissive, February was involved, and on the hike I remembered that March is patience. I almost laughed at the connection. There was no better moment to learn patience than on that mountain that night.
Simple advice I've heard my whole life became more real than ever before. I didn't have to move as fast as everyone else (because if I did I'd be dead probably). I just had to keep moving forward *meet the robinsons* The minute I decided to walk slower than ever before was the moment I began climbing that mountain. And boy was it all worth it:
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Slow progress is better than no progress. You need to be content with small steps. That's all life is. Small steps that you take every day so when you look back down the road it all adds up and you know you covered some distance.
I always thought I was patient because I could stand in long lines at grocery stores without getting upset. But patience is a lot more than that. To be patient is to be fully content with life, not eagerly anticipating every next move. To be patient is to walk slowly and stay at the top to enjoy the view. So many hikers that day got to the top, spent 30 seconds looking around, then walked/ran/push-upped their way back down. I stayed there for a while because well I wanted to earn those switchbacks and I wasn't about to move again.
Sometimes we walk alone, like I did yesterday. Sometimes we start out fast and try to act like we have it all together. Sometimes we're too busy anticipating the top of the mountain to enjoy the road. And sometimes, we go slower than anyone else on the trail because it means we keep moving forward.
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You will get there when you get there and not a moment sooner. So relax, breathe, and be patient.
On St. Patrick's Day this year I climbed a mountain. Well I went to school and work and did normal stuff, but I also hiked 12 switchbacks to Y Mountain. This was my sixth time hiking it and I HAVE NO CLUE WHY.
I started off super strong—maybe almost too strong. I had headphones in and my pink Nikes and no water bottle failz. I made each stride strong and quick. I was going to get up this mountain in 30 minutes because I've done it before.
One minute in and I was already facing steep trials. *Cue church metaphor about hiking mountains and learning things* But really. On this hike I learned, once again, the meaning of life and family and personal accomplishment.
I would make it up a switchback and rest for 5-10 minutes at each turn. I tried to enjoy the city view, but the pounding heartbeat in my brain overtook any relaxing thoughts. I kept walking and pausing, stopping and resting.
If you want to know how much I was hurting, look at this text message exchange between me and my youngest sister. So maybe I exaggerated a little, and I'm a fairly active person, but for some reason my speed and the inclines and my breath were all not having it. My sister's advice was simple and almost too obvious: "You have all night. Take it slow."
That's what I did. Oh, did I take it slow. I was going so slow up that mountain that I wondered if other people thought I was attempting the world's longest hike time. Hikers passed me up the trail and then passed me again coming down the mountain. One guy even had jeans on. There was also a shirtless, tatted, bearded man (my sister's dream) who ran up the mountain and did push-ups at each rest stop. And I was going slower than anyone else.
But *here comes the cliche analogy* after I slowed down, I never had to stop again. I finished seven more switchbacks without stopping. I was able to focus on the music, the weather, the mountain. I could hear my own thoughts and began to have fun. I stopped counting turns. Then I turned a switchback and saw the Y. Each month I focus on an attribute to work on. January was submissive, February was involved, and on the hike I remembered that March is patience. I almost laughed at the connection. There was no better moment to learn patience than on that mountain that night.
Simple advice I've heard my whole life became more real than ever before. I didn't have to move as fast as everyone else (because if I did I'd be dead probably). I just had to keep moving forward *meet the robinsons* The minute I decided to walk slower than ever before was the moment I began climbing that mountain. And boy was it all worth it:
Slow progress is better than no progress. You need to be content with small steps. That's all life is. Small steps that you take every day so when you look back down the road it all adds up and you know you covered some distance.
I always thought I was patient because I could stand in long lines at grocery stores without getting upset. But patience is a lot more than that. To be patient is to be fully content with life, not eagerly anticipating every next move. To be patient is to walk slowly and stay at the top to enjoy the view. So many hikers that day got to the top, spent 30 seconds looking around, then walked/ran/push-upped their way back down. I stayed there for a while because well I wanted to earn those switchbacks and I wasn't about to move again.
Sometimes we walk alone, like I did yesterday. Sometimes we start out fast and try to act like we have it all together. Sometimes we're too busy anticipating the top of the mountain to enjoy the road. And sometimes, we go slower than anyone else on the trail because it means we keep moving forward.
You will get there when you get there and not a moment sooner. So relax, breathe, and be patient.
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