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Mountains are Calling

and I must answer

By Robert WebbPublished 3 years ago Updated 3 years ago 3 min read

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived" - Henry David Thoreau

They appear in my dreams, the same one each night. I'm standing somewhere at the bottom of a vast beast, an extraordinarily large being. My skin is cold to touch yet heat surges through my veins unlike no other.

I gaze upon the majestic creature and somehow feel as though it gazes back at me. A reflection of my inner self, a symbol of my fortitude, a sign of strength.

I move swiftly, there's a lot of ground to cover and what I'm racing against doesn't take pit stops or rests. It waits for no man to tie his shoes. After a few hours moving through the dark, soaking in the scent of the trees, drinking in the unseen energy of mother nature, I become one with the forest.

My breathing matches that of the trees, they inhale my exhale and I inhale their exhale, we are at one. I don't need to look where I'm going now, my feet know the way, all I look out for are other creatures, things that move in the shadows, sounds that draw the attention away.

My heart is racing now, cold beads of sweat inch their way further down my forehead, catching the cold forest air as they slide. I can see much more now, the trees are giving way to the sky and the darkness is giving way to the light.

My legs sense we are close to the top and start to tremble, they know rest will soon fall upon them and they are eager to take up the offer. As I peel back the final branch of pine elbowing its way on the path, I step out into the clearing.

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined". - Henry David Thoreau

And then I wake up. Each night and every morning is more of the same. I never see what is up there, it's as if the mountains are calling and I don't deserve the reward.

They are calling, and as anyone that has ever seen the difference between a photo and a real mountain up close knows, it is something that has to be seen, has to be felt, has to be sensed, to be truly understood.

These dreams are now filling up my day, I see vast shapes forming as thoughts inside my mind, I feel the weight of that mountain calling me, sitting perched upon my shoulder.

It wants me to be free, wants me to see straight, wants me to get back to where it all began. I must take up the offer. I must make my way.

What comes next is simple in action but difficult in thought. Emotion will always wreck havoc with your desires, remind yourself this is just Resistance calling your name, stare it down, and move on no matter what.

What comes next is quitting my job, giving up my home, selling all my possessions. I know it will not be enough to visit for a day or two, even a week. I need time there, I need to learn more about the lessons it seeks to teach me.

It doesn't take long from the moment I made the decision to go. Five days. I packed up my car with camping gear, a cooler, clothes, and enough dope camera gear I could make a Hollywood production if I had the talent.

I quit my job, moved out of my house, drove to the gas station and filled up my tank, stopped by the grocery store, and bought a lot of dried noodles. I said my goodbyes, and then I left.

I had just one destination in mind, the Canadian Rockies. When I arrived, I would decide what next, when I arrived, I would find out what the fuss was all about, why I was being called here, and what the lesson for this adventure would entail.

"Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth". - Henry David Thoreau


About the Creator

Robert Webb

Freelance writer.

I write about all walks of life, from fiction to non-fiction, self-help to psychology, travel to philosophy.

I like to bring a sense of humor to serious topics, a splash of philosophical thinking, and a dash of weirdness.

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