The Sunset Climber

She looked around and it was so dark she could barely see her hand in front of her face. As she stepped through the thicket, she counted her steps, "One thousand forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven..." all the while amazed at how short of a distance she had actually traveled.

"Wow! For one thousand and fifty steps I sure haven't gone far. How will I ever make it?" She asked herself as she attempted to look around to find anything that was remotely familiar. She began to tremble at the thought of moving further into unknown territories, and even more, at the idea of giving up; yet with every step she could hear her glass aquarium, that she found comfort living in for years, cracking, which was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

"One thousand fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three...I have to keep going, keep going, I have to... keep going." She spoke aloud as if the sound of her own voice would offer her companionship in the blackened dead of night.

“Why, did I do this? Who am I to do this? Why would I do this alone? I should go back! I need to just go back where I’m content, safe, and secure. I don’t do things like this.”

She scrambled through her rolodex of excuses trying to find any reason to give up, to retreat into the fortress of protection she worked so hard to create after so many painful experiences, but none was as compelling as her reason to tread forward. She had a destination, she had questions, and needed them answered, needed to know. She continued to count, “two thousand, two thousand-one, two, three”.

Far off in the distance of the dark she could hear the faint sounds of traffic. It was discouraging. If she could hear sounds of life moving around her, she hadn't gone far enough.

“Maybe, if I run, I can increase the distance.”

She thought as she began to trot through the mist-soaked foliage. The night was well within its spectrum mirroring the idea of solitude. It was everything one would picture if asked to describe depression and despair. The walls of the mountainside were moistened with midnight breath and its peeks covered with fog filled fallacies. The ground sank with every step and it became unclear if the trees, she once trusted for shade, were friend or foe.

"Shit!" she exclaimed as she slowly lifted her foot from a shallow hole in the ground. Her ankle was bleeding from being pierced with the sharp sticks that hid in its dampness.

As she sat at the base of the tree, that she suspected deposited such daggers, fragile and out of breath, she felt the shadow of doubt approach as if it were her old friend coming to her aid to help her back home with lies of safety and contentment.

“Why does this happen? I try to move forward and somehow; I always end up hurt in the process.” She reached in her backpack and pulled out her first-aid kit.

“Good thing this time I was prepared.” She proceeded to wrap her injury and stand to her feet.

"I will not give up! I can't, no matter how it hurts, I must keep moving!"

With every step she thought about all the things that had brought her to this moment. All the pressures of parenthood, all the pain of domestic abuse, all the loved ones she lost too early. Warm tears started to stream down her face, and she let them. Finally, she was in a place where she could just let them fall like the raindrops that filled muddy puddles when she was a child. She continued to climb. She remembered the home invasion that came with the violation of her womanhood so many years ago; also, in the dark where hands and feet disappeared in the color of night, and she climbed faster! She thought of how hard she had to fight for everything in her life, the same way she was fighting the overgrown sticker bushes that stood guard on her pathway strategically ripping away her garments to expose the innocents of unbroken skin, because for her nothing was ever easy. All the battles and all the bruises from those battles, internal scars incased in physical brokenness from carrying, baring and now raising her children as a widowed mother in an economy that showed her zero empathy, and she climbed harder!

"What number is this? I can't remember. Dammit! what step is this? Surely I'm over five thousand by now." She said to herself as she stopped for a breather and drink of water.

She sat on a nearby log and listened in the dark, all she heard was the sounds of nocturnal nature. there was no more traffic, no more cries of trouble or responsibilities. Outside of a few owls and land critters scurrying through the moist leaves, she was completely alone. It was peaceful in a way. A firefly came to visit, and then another and another lighting up the night air. She watched as they danced around in freedom and was moved. She wanted to find other beauties hidden deep within any expectation of what darkness had to offer. Suddenly, what she once identified as tree frogs croaking became beautiful melodies, along with the deep bass of the bullfrog’s bellow. The crickets rubbed their legs together like violins. In one magical moment, the forest became a symphony of music, and she was lost in its magnificence. For the first time in her life, she understood that even the darkness possessed much beauty if she allowed herself to find its enchanting light.

         Now, rested and ready to finish the journey, she got on her feet and continued up the mountainside. The Darkness was breaking, and she felt confident she would make it to her destination.

As she peered into the distance, she could see evidence of the clearing. She was almost free from all the troubles the mountainside conjured up for her journey.

         “I knew I would make it! I’m almost there. YES! I did that shit!” She was proud of herself and for the first time in a long time she felt the familiar warmth of happiness wrapping itself around her heart like a handwoven blanket.

 A few feet to the side, she saw a freshwater stream which made her realize how thirsty she had become.

She thought to herself, “I’ll have a small drink and refill the canteen for the long trip down.”

She stepped away from the path, that was leading her in the right direction, toward the stream.

As she squatted down with cupped hands, she let the clear water run over them and wash them clean. She couldn’t help to think how symbolic it appeared, water from the mountain washing her hands clean much like she hoped completing the journey would do for her soul.

As he drank the ice-cold water, she closed her eyes in gratitude. She felt revived and strong, accomplished and confident, but most of all she felt…. She felt a warm pant of breath on her face! The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She heard the spring water splash from the heaviness of steps. Her heart began to beat so rapidly she thought it was going to jump out of her chest. She heard the growls surround her. Her eyes shut tighter. She didn’t need to see them to know that she was face to face with those things that wished to destroy her. She was terrified! She knew they would never allow her to make it to the top.

A tear fell as she thought about how hard she fought to climb so far.

She could feel them coming closer, gnashing their teeth and nipping her into position to attack.

She remembered her children’s beautiful faces and how much she loved them, and she wiped her tears away. She thought about how many storms she made it through in her life, how many disappointments she faced and prevailed over; and she stood up solid! She thought about her father and siblings, how they always had unwavering faith in her, and she tightened her body with her chest out and her back strong! Finally, she thought about her whole purpose for making such a death-defying journey up that mountainside and … she… opened… her eyes!

“NOT TODAY SATAN! NOT TODAY!” she declared while preparing to take on the whole pack of wolves that were there to devour her.

To her surprise, she stood alone, and the atmosphere was once again, peaceful.

 “Twenty-one thousand and one, twenty-one thousand and two, twenty-one thousand and three…” she counted her way to the top and as she stepped into the clearing just as the sun began to rise. She reached into her backpack for a small prayer blanket. She placed it on the ground, dropped to her knees, and bowed her head. Tears streamed down her face like Jamaican waterfalls while the earths energy filled her spirit with divinity and majestic creation. She stretched out her arms as to embrace all the warmth the sun desired to bestow upon her, this victorious warrior.

And in a mighty call from the depths of her being she said cried out unapologetically fierce,

 "MY FATHER, YAHWEH,….. THANK YOU!!!!"

For in that moment, with God’s grace cascading down onto her tattered frame, she finally realized "why" she was and more importantly, WHOSE she was.