Down from the mountain
It’s easy to find highs in your life. But when you go up, you have to come down again.
When he came down from the mountain, great crowds followed him.
~Matthew 8:1
When he came down from the mountain…
You started out with an inkling, a promise, a hint of something better—besides, you were up for an adventure.
Maybe you were joined by others. Loved ones, or a crowd. Maybe you went alone, knowing it was a journey you needed to take by yourself, for the sake of your own integrity. Either way, fueled by adrenaline, the hike up the mountain was easy.
At the top, your suspicions were confirmed. It was all worthwhile. The vision is beautiful. What looked dirty, dull, and indistinguishable to you in your daily life becomes a landscape you can see as a whole, with perspective.
On the mountain, everything is clear: you understand how far you are from the mess you left behind, you know the new rules, you’re inspired by the vision of the person you’re going to be.
And the way down? Even better! You’re still enthralled with the vision, fresh in your mind. You’re together with those who joined you, and they’re equally inspired. And gravity’s on your side—you’re feeling the momentum. The hardest part is making sure you don’t face-plant because you’re going too fast.
But once you’re back at the bottom, things change. The crowds disperse. The energy dissipates. You still have the beautiful vision—but each day, it fades a little, becoming just a bit less focused.
The ideas, the rules, the maxims that had captivated you on the mountain? They still captivate; but it’s not quite as clear how to apply them to the messy reality of your daily life.
Perhaps a little despair begins to set in, or even fear.
… great crowds followed him.
There are two ways to follow. The first—the easiest, when you’re tempted with the confusion that sets in once you’re down from the mountain—is to cling tighter than ever to the one who gave you the vision. To the every movement, every word and deed.
This isn’t the right way to follow.
It’s a lie that gives you the false comfort that comes from merely repeating without the thinking, creating, and mentoring that are necessary for you to grow. You might be physically closer, but you’re mentally and spiritually farther from the good teacher.
The second way is much harder. It’s to say, “I’m exactly where I should be. I can’t stay on this mountain forever. I can’t reject my life. Whatever truth I’ve been given up on the mountain, it only becomes real when I seize it and use it. When I do the seemingly impossible work of figuring out how to apply it here, in this messy life I’m living.”
The choice is always between the easy path and the hard path. Only one will get you where you want to go: to a life transformed by that vision you received up on the mountain.