Yesterday we toured a part of the Blue Mountains National Park. We gathered at an unripe 7:15 on a Saturday morning. We had a long bus ride, lunch was rushed, and things started a little grumpy. Okay, maybe that was just me.
Once we started hiking I perked up tremendously. With my fellow Americans we ooh-ed and aah-ed over each viewpoint, taking pictures and the view in all at once. Let me tell you, IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. I would have climbed all day to witness more and more of the incredible scene. It came time to head back to the bus so we could head to a different view point, the Three Sisters. Now our hike started at the top and worked down. So the return was uphill. Even for young, active college kids, we became exhausted by the seemingly endless stairs. We giggled as we admitted to be out of breath only half way up. Jokes were made about how toned our butts were getting. Yet, some people were complaining up a storm, groaning and becoming frustrated by the effort required. These few individuals were killing my joy, thankfully only momentarily.
As I reflected on this I discovered a metaphor for life. Some people will gladly march up limitless stairs for the opportunity to appreciate an unimaginable view. Some people will only remember the stairs. Our lives will push us up stairs that will appear to have no end. We must remember that they will result in a perfectly inspirational point of view.
Peace, love, and imperfect manifesto.