Pilgrimage up Adam's Peak

And so, I decided to make a determined effort to make the climb with Sean and Monica. In the wee hours of the morning, several thousand feet up in a long queue of faithful in search of Nirvana. The trip should have been effortless, as I was pure of heart. And what did I discover? I learned that my muscles and bones and joints are old and that weariness overcomes my body before my mind or soul. And I learned a bit of humility, as I found myself being half carried up the mountain. My hips hurt and my calves quivered and my frail lungs were huffing and puffing. But was I having a good time? Actually, at some levels I was. It was indeed wonderful to be with my son and his fine friend. And, having no need to appear young and vigorous anymore, I was grateful for their help. In the end, they went ahead to finish the climb for us all and I stayed behind to rest and contemplate. And to witness a climb by thousands which has been carried out over the millennia. And yes, my legs felt like jelly on the return journey and cramped for three subsequent days. But I would not trade the experience for anything. It was a lesson in love and humility.