Fear is quickly overtaking me. The point of its knife begins to sink painfully into my chest, threatening to run me through completely. Chill winds swirl around my heart, transforming it into a crystallized anchor, and I am frozen where I stand. My eyes begin to drip, stinging from exposure to the frigid winter atmosphere, but I refuse them any alleviation. They are fixed on an unattainable peak surging up from the earth before me, seeming to rip a monstrous gash in the foamy clouds miles above. Despite the bitter cold, perspiration beads my brow. My tongue runs helplessly over my cracking lips in a struggle to bring my numb body back to warmth and life. The mountain begs me to climb, its blue stones glimmering in the frosty air. My own breath clouds my vision, and I can feel veins of rock beneath my feet, firm and true. They whisper to me, calling softy. If only fear would loosen its hold just briefly, certainly I could wrench myself free. Just the thought of freedom stirs a hot longing in my icy heart. Will I ever escape my fear long enough to truly experience the life I know is within my grasp?
This drowning fear is no stranger to me. Along the path which I have traveled since the beginning of time have arisen many such terrifying opportunities. They take countless forms; sometimes a rock that my frail fingers have not the courage to overturn, sometimes an ocean far too wide for my soul to navigate, sometimes a horse of shimmering coal, its eyes filled with the bright hope of adventure, begging me to grip its mane and ride towards the stars. Opportunities to traverse a new path, to discover fresh springs bubbling with diverse perspectives frequently present themselves, promising a road better than the one I walk, but fear refuses to relinquish its hold on me.
What do I fear? I am a bird trapped in a cage of my own creation, for I fear what I do not know. I am a sailor whose compass begs to lead him to the desires of his heart, but because he has no map to know exactly how the journey will end, he loses hope and turns for home. Two words burn a hole in my brain, causing me no end of torture. One simple question: “What if?” As I search endlessly for an answer, I begin to realize – there isn’t one. Cunningly, fate continues to elude the chains with which I try to bind it. I will never know what my life can be unless I dare to make the choice to truly live. Do I dare?
As my mind contemplates these things, the veins of rock beneath my feet seem to imbue courage into my withered body, and my legs suddenly feel firm and true as I face the great fear looming above. Peering down the path behind me, I see nothing. I can’t expect the path ahead of me to be any different. My past has been my choice; like a ship in the harbor, I am safe where I stand, but then, a ship was not made to reside in the harbor. Slowly, apprehensively, my gaze returns to the mountain, the epitome of danger and risk. My future is now my choice. I want to live. I want to be free. I can do this. Mustering all of the strength inside my feeble body, I hoist that anchor twisted painfully around my heart, and heat begins to flood me, rising through my feet, filling my dim eyes with the fire of courage. I begin to climb.