The View

I’ve been looking at this picture of the 3 of us for months. I scroll through my pictures and always pause at it. We climbed up the steep cliffs, we zigzagged on the switch backs. We carefully stepped on the slippery rocks. We stood at the edge of the path knowing one tiny step forward meant one large tumble hundreds of feet down. I had to stop and sit for a moment when I felt light-headed. We finally arrived at the top. We had a 360 degree view. We could pause. We could appreciate the journey. We could celebrate the strength that allowed us to complete this adventure.

The only difference between this hike and my my own journey through difficult diagnoses was we chose this. We chose to slip into our hiking boots, wear our comfortable clothes, pack our water, and climb up the rocky trail.

I didn’t choose breast cancer. I didn’t choose the trauma of surgery, or the pain of radiation. I didn’t choose to live with Multiple Sclerosis. But I did choose another step. I did choose to move forward even if I had to crawl. I did choose to learn how to care for myself.

Before the health challenges came, I bulldozed my way through anything challenging. When I was exhausted, but there was still more to do, I did it anyway. I might have felt like I was going to collapse, but I continued. If finishing the task hurt my health, I finished the task anyway.

Later, I learned I could not afford to push myself. I had to learn to listen. I had to learn to rest. On the hike, I stopped when I felt light-headed. In my life, I had to learn to stop and regain my strength and energy.

In reality, the rest gives you time to take in the view. If I raced up that climb, I would have missed the snow covered valleys and the water-filled canyons. I would have missed the mountain flowers and the unique rocks. Moving slowly gives you an opportunity to enjoy the trip, to appreciate the view, and to save a bit of energy for the victory at the top.