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Top of the Isabella Curve.


It is not easy to be in the middle, summits notwithstanding.

Murov mountain, Azerbaijan

From a distance, the mountain climber’s destination seems clear, summit and base camp defined. But that is not the truth of the journey.

I’ve never crested a mountain, but I’ve clawed my way up the steep, unforgiving paths of a few of them.  And while ascent marked the beginning and descent the end of the trips, I used each in service to the other along the way.

From the long view, we scale the heights.

From the short view we just keep plugging away.

We don’t feel like we are rising, and we sure as hell don’t feel like we are soaring.

Even with best efforts, sometimes we barely know where we are, let alone the direction in which we are heading.

We know what we set out to do, but we are confronted with places that we didn’t expect – too many trees, too much forest, not enough sky.  Grounded.

In that way, life, the week, sometimes the moment, can seem more like being in the middle of the ocean than near the peak of the mountain – flat, the view constant, encircled by horizon.  Plenty of sky.  Not enough ground.

Odd, the commonalities of seeming opposites.

So today, two songs.

One for the sky, the heart, and rotational orbits.

One for the water, and the hand, and the grinding of the wheel.





©29 May 2012 Isabella Darling.  All rights reserved. Images as attributed.  Video via standard youtube license.