Personal Mountains

Our last hours on La Graciosa before getting the ferry back to Lanzarote and I spent most of them sitting by the sea with my notebook, either in the village with a coffee or down the coast a little, perched on various rocks, slowly retreating inshore as the tide came in. 

I came on this trip with my writing flowing well but with no firm idea of where it was taking me. I'd been kidding myself that it all made sense. It didn't. I was getting a little lost. I thought that some time away would help me gain some perspective, to help me be more honest with myself. It has.

I've been putting words to paper like a meandering trail of footsteps in the sand, not really going anywhere. I've not had too much concern with destination. If the tide came in and washed them all away, it wouldn't much have mattered. Writing has been a process. I've been looking at it as a therapeutic one. 

Before I left I'd become aware that wasn't enough. I've always been highly goal-oriented. This trip has made me painfully aware of how very much that is still the case. It would be lovely to find contentment in bimbling and idling time away, but that isn't me. I don't need to defend my inability to relax. Either my body has to be moving - walking, running, cycling - or my mind has to be challenged and working, or at least be well entertained. 

I'm at my happiest when I'm climbing a mountain, whether that be a physical one or one of my own envisaging. I had hoped to have a clearer picture of my personal mountain at the end of this trip. It's not yet fully in view, but I can at least see the foothills. They are out of the mist now. And I think I've had fleeting glimpses of the summit. Possibly. It's hard to tell. There have been some healthy distractions along the way too: fine walking, great photography, excellent food, and the most lovely company. I've made progress.

I've had to redefine the scale of my mountain adventures these last few years. It's not the absolute size that really matters. The scale of the challenge has to match the level of my ability. The summit needs to be attainable, but only just. Perhaps the most important thing in life is to understand the heights that we're able to reach. There is a lot of rubbish talked about not putting limits on ourselves and what we can achieve. Of course, we all have limits, defined both physically and mentally. We have to limit our ambitions in order that we don't get discouraged by continual failure. We pick too high a mountain and it will never be scaled. We pick too small a mountain and there is no challenge and no sense of achievement. The secret is picking a mountain of the right size. I may not be able to scale the one I have in mind, but I'm going to give it my all because I've come to trust that it is possible. Just. With the right weather. And enough application. It's not going to be easy, but that's not the point.