I am in a transitional moment in life. I’ve spent the last two years climbing to my own personal mountaintop and studying at the feet of my own body’s masters. Being a student of myself and my limitations has been illuminating.
The montage scene of growing and becoming stronger in the monastery turns out to take a lot longer in real time than it does in the movies. Probably why they only show you the super cut. I did get to do most of it in isolation though so I guess that’s suitably cinematic. Most people probably imagine vows of silence not Tweeting alone from your bedroom during a pandemic but the effect is basically the same.
I can sense that I’m coming to the other side of some things. That my time becoming myself on the proverbial mountaintop is almost over. It is time to come down from my personal monastery and rejoin humanity with my learnings. I am an expanded soul from the experience of this hardship. But I’m also not quite finished with my journey back yet either.
Maybe in this metaphor I’m looking down on the city I am meant to rejoin. Or maybe I’m in a camp on my way down. Either way I feel eager to get back to the business of living in civilization. But I’m not there yet. Something is whispering patience to me. But I’m so close. I’m like an animal that knows it’s close to home and speeds up their pace. I’m anxious for the journey to conclude. But I’m not quite there yet. If you are waiting for me I’ll be there soon. What’s a couple more weeks after a couple of years after all?