I remember looking over Cathedral Ledge in NH fondly. I felt the cold snip of October wind as the mountains unfolded below in a blaze of crimson and gold. Every time I see any sight of scale, the vastness makes my own worries feel small.
That moment is a quiet gift of wild places: they don't erase our struggles, but they shrink them by reminding us how briefly we occupy the frame—our deadlines, doubts, and daily grind are just one speck in a landscape that has endured harsher seasons without apology and on a longer timeline we can barely comprehend.
So when the next hard climb—literal or otherwise—feels insurmountable, pause and look up: the mountain isn't judging your pace; it's simply waiting for you to keep moving forward, one deliberate step at a time.
Which of these is bigger today: the personal moment of feeling small, the universal truth it reveals, or the actionable push to just keep stepping?
~ J.R. Warden
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