Climbing to the Top of the Mountain

Glacier National Park Mountains ©Mary Montague Sikes

An artist whose newsletter I recently signed up to receive has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Today, Robert Genn commented, "I may not always have climbed to the top, but I'm so thankful to have been on the mountain."

I thought about us--the writers and artists who stand in the valley and look up to the top of the mountain. The climb is a struggle for most. We want so very much to reach the top, the pinnacle for which we strive. Few of us will get to that coveted high point, but those who do might discover the glory was in the journey.

Writers write because they have to. They have a gnawing need to put pen to paper, fingers to the keyboard. Inside them, the words fight to get out. Often it is a terrifying struggle to meet a deadline or to produce a product others might enjoy and wish to buy. We might or might not make a living with this continuous effort. Manuscripts pile high, rewritten again and again. Publication comes--an article, a book. The top of the mountain looms closer.

Artists paint because they must. They covet the feel of luscious thick and juicy paint beneath their brushes. They enjoy experimenting with images and materials. Sales do not come easily. They visit galleries and glory in the work of others. Their inventories build and burgeon. A big sale happens. The top is within reach, or is it?

Years later, they all look back. Writers have stories and articles hidden among their archives. Artists have paintings long forgotten. They smile. The journey was long and treacherous, but it was satisfying along the way. The mountain was tall, but being on the mountain was the important thing after all.

What about your journey up the mountain? Do you appreciate your voyage? Is the trip through creativity enough to feed happiness into your life?

"Flowers Along the Way" ©Mary Montague Sikes

Is the joy in the journey along the way?

I think it might be.