The last time I climbed a mountain was with my Grandfather, we took an easy trail up Mount Modnadnock. It was a great day, I was out of shape and accompanied my Aunt Jane, who was out of breath. Hikes and long walks were a family tradition. The top of Mount Monadnock is a rocky plateau, one of the magical places I enjoy. The transition of plant life at the tree line is awe-inspiring. A tree the size of your hand can be hundreds of years old, lying flat and grasping the rocks. It is a testimonial to survival.
My last post on a local monadnock, the namesake of our town, Pilot Mountain, reminded me of these alpine trees. Survival on this planet is inspirational and awe-inspiring. To see a tree that struggled for centuries to achieve the size of my hand on the peak of a mountain with it’s roots clinging to the smooth granite and providing a harbor for a tuft of grass and a bit of moss and lichen. I can hardly complain of my tiny troubles.
My use of a cane for my Meniere’s and the now constant tinnitus is only a stronger arctic wind for me to push against. A brief blizzard providing an freezing blanket to snuggle under. And always the wonderful sun providing rays of sunlight to transform into food via the chlorophyll in the thick little green needles. I can only imagine the calm path of gradual surrender to natures and events. I even imagine the constant tinnitus is a frequency of the atomic vibrations of the physical world and a song whisper from the universe.
Endurance is not something we accept in our society. We have and demand digital and engineering miracles. But, we should not forget that a little discomfort and acceptance is required to build a tolerance and become stronger. This strength might come in handy later, when a loved one requires more than they can handle.