Another Side of the Mountain

“There will always be another reality to make fiction of the truth we think we’ve arrived at.” ~ Christopher Frye

These words jumped from the page of the book I am reading. Frye is an English playwright and with this simple statement he caught my attention.

I love climbing hills and mountains. Hong Kong was a perfect place to do this. Newfoundland was another super place to climb as well. In both places I did this to kill time and get away from the roar of life below.

When I read the story of Jesus he did this as well. He withdrew to a quiet place, climbed a hill to pray – or be alone.

In Hong Kong there was one range that we climbed from time to time. When you arrived at the top you could see forever it seemed. There below you was another valley, then another valley leading up to another peak of the next mountain. Usually one peak was enough on a hot day with complaining teenage daughters.

But the feeling that I would love to see what is on the other side of the next mountain peak would never leave/has never left. You can see for so far, but when you arrive on top on the second peak you can see even further.
In Hong Kong this was especially true of Lion Rock Mountain(photo above) – which was right up and behind our apartment complex. As we climbed to the top and then faced East and a bit North, there was the next peak and the next part of a rambling range(below) that seemed to go forever. As we walked along that range the roar of the city was way down to the right side, the wilderness and more mountain peaks were to the left. To the left there were places that few Hong Kong residents had ever seen. It was truly a wilderness in the heart of Biggest Little country in the world.
In Newfoundland many of the small villages and towns were the same. The lower areas near the bay were settled….with roads lined with small houses. Sometimes the town would be two miles long and about 100 feet deep. It was like a string of Pearls from the top of the high hills that cuddled it.

At the top of these hills/ranges you could see forever…out to the open water and then to the far reaching wilderness inland.

My hill/mountain climbing always left me with the simple thought that Frye states… “There will always be another reality to make fiction of the truth we think we’ve arrived at.”

Life has been a little like that too. What I fear doesn’t happen. There is only another something up ahead that is different or the same than what was….but it becomes an “is”.

When you go through difficult times – it seems that it will get worse. When there are good times it seems it will always be good. But the perception of what will be will change when I get to that next peak… the next range top… or even the gorgeous valley floor.

In reverse I look back thinking that what if… Where is that one that we once knew... someone that was once close to us is gone? It never works… other than on FaceBook now…and people are different even there.

I think I am getting the idea now. The NOW is more important than what could have been, what might have been, or what was or wasn’t happening way back when. Happy or harsh memories – whatever they were… are only that – memories. Some will fade and others will resurface – but they are not included in my NOW. NOW is where I live… and NOW is what I need to deal with.

Some of the old memories will haunt me and even immobilize me.

I have an old Spark Coil from a Model T Ford Car that is from 1924. I held it the other day and it brought back huge memories of my very first car… my1924 Model T Ford… and my Dad and the age that I was and all the work that I put into the restoration of that old car before selling it for $125. Man what a rush. The thoughts were good and bad.

But I can’t live with holding that Old Spark Coil. I live holding NOW.

I can’t live holding “What If” either – NOW is more important…and NOW is slipping away so fast that I wonder what happened. I am almost afraid to go to sleep – because NOW will be gone.
A transition has an End, a Neutral Zone and a New Beginning.

WOW!

~ Murray Lincoln ~