There's No Shortcut to the Top of the Mountain

When I was a little girl, my music teacher gave me an article with this title. Contained in the article was an amusing story which instructed the reader on the value of hard work and achievements that could be accomplished with concentrated effort. In the hopes that I would take this article to heart and become a diligent student, practicing my hour a day, my parents taped it to the music stand atop my organ and referenced it whenever I felt like giving up- a daily struggle. Suffice it to say, I turned a blind eye to this prudent information, and eventually created my own way of achieving success.

See, I happened to be one of those children that wasn't often challenged during daily activities. I picked up most things easily, and often was bored at school. Ashamedly, I passed much of my grammer and high school years without having to even open a text book. My college years proved similiar, having only to really knuckle down and study a handful of times. I became very adept at finding the shortcut to the mountaintop. Cruising the glossaries and indices for answers to study guides. Memorizing definitions via flash cards. I was a pro, missing Magna Cum Laude by 1/100th of a point. I say this not to boast, but rather, to admit, that while I seemed to be able to achieve the highest marks, I cannot tell you much of what I learned.

As life continued on, I thought everything would fall into place. I got married, graduated, got divorced, then got lost. Really lost. Lost in that, it looks like everything is really cool on the surface, but if I pause for one second I'd notice the cracks in the foundation. Left unpatched for many years, these cracks became fissures, and eventually the foundation crumbled and I imploded. It's the imploded part that hurled me back down the mountain and destroyed all my well worn shortcuts.

I suffered with panic attacks for 6 months before I knew what they were. It took a full year to admit to myself that they weren't going to go away by themselves. It took another 9 months to ackowledge that I couldn't do it alone.

Now I had to put in the effort. There was no quick fix for this. No magic super glue that could piece me back together.

For the past year and a half I've started laying a solid foundation. Put in countless hours. Went through numerous boxes of tissue. Cried over years of unexpressed grief. Grief that I thought I processed a long time ago. Pain that I thought I dealt with because of my ability to forge ahead. Questioned myself constantly. Probed and gently pushed to accept my vulnerabilities.

I've begun to look at myself without the mirror. Raw. Unapologetic. Unflinching. I am me and I am climbing, no longer looking for shortcuts.