I love this reflection so much. As a mountain girl myself, I’ve done a few strenuous treks, the kind where your breath turns thin, your legs burn, and the mind starts negotiating with the body. Reading your words, I felt that same rhythm of the climb mirrored in the inner path.
On the mountain, every step upward asks for surrender -- to pace, to patience, to the elements. And in the same way, the spiritual journey keeps asking us to descend after each ascent, to rest, to integrate, to learn how to breathe again before the next stretch of elevation.
I’ve often felt that too, those moments when insight feels clear and vast, then suddenly gone, like altitude sickness of the soul. But maybe that’s the nature of it: we can only hold so much light before we must return to the valley to strengthen our capacity for more.
THere's something deeply humbling about learning to respect both the climb and the pause because both lead us home <3
The reverence, patience, and humility in your words feel like signs of deep progress on the path. I think “spiritual” comes from "spiritus" (to breathe). Perhaps we have all been on this path since our very first breath. Your beautiful metaphors of high‑altitude climbing seem just as alive in everyday life. It makes me wonder: when does a spiritual path truly begin? Is it marked by God, or named by our own ego?
"falling down a staircase, slipping on marbles that were spilled on the ground, tumbling outside the front door, slipping on dog shit on the sidewalk, being hit by a truck and having the piano it was carrying fall on top of me. Sometimes you can’t help but laugh at how unexpectedly miserable it can get."
Such a beautiful and poetic bent on the human process of spiritual awakening. Thank you for sharing your uniqueness here.
🙏
I love this reflection so much. As a mountain girl myself, I’ve done a few strenuous treks, the kind where your breath turns thin, your legs burn, and the mind starts negotiating with the body. Reading your words, I felt that same rhythm of the climb mirrored in the inner path.
On the mountain, every step upward asks for surrender -- to pace, to patience, to the elements. And in the same way, the spiritual journey keeps asking us to descend after each ascent, to rest, to integrate, to learn how to breathe again before the next stretch of elevation.
I’ve often felt that too, those moments when insight feels clear and vast, then suddenly gone, like altitude sickness of the soul. But maybe that’s the nature of it: we can only hold so much light before we must return to the valley to strengthen our capacity for more.
THere's something deeply humbling about learning to respect both the climb and the pause because both lead us home <3
beautifully expressed! thanks for sharing.
Thanks for sharing. A beautiful piece. 🙏
🙏thank you for your feedback
The reverence, patience, and humility in your words feel like signs of deep progress on the path. I think “spiritual” comes from "spiritus" (to breathe). Perhaps we have all been on this path since our very first breath. Your beautiful metaphors of high‑altitude climbing seem just as alive in everyday life. It makes me wonder: when does a spiritual path truly begin? Is it marked by God, or named by our own ego?
I am always impressed by your wisdom 🙏
🙏
this reminds me of one step forward, two steps back...
the inner mountain journey and how you describe it is something I'll keep with me, thank you.
one step at a time, one day at a time... x
Thanks for relating 🙏. Your comment reminds me of a post I wrote about two months ago - https://herewithoutname.substack.com/p/one-step-forward-three-steps-back
this is just so funny:
"falling down a staircase, slipping on marbles that were spilled on the ground, tumbling outside the front door, slipping on dog shit on the sidewalk, being hit by a truck and having the piano it was carrying fall on top of me. Sometimes you can’t help but laugh at how unexpectedly miserable it can get."