Twenty-three years ago this summer I backpacked down the Grand Canyon’s Kaibab Trail with seven kids from my youth group and came up Bright Angel a week later. Each day we packed our gear at three in the morning so we could begin our hike before the heat kicked in full blast. By the last morning of the trip, I was utterly spent. The steep climb out of the canyon left me feeling like maybe I wouldn’t make it. Maybe I’d be stuck on that trail forever.
I stopped moving about a half mile from the canyon’s rim, unsure how to muster up the strength to keep going. It didn’t matter I could see the end. Getting there felt near impossible.
That’s when I experienced a simple act of kindness that has lived with me ever since. My youth sponsor, Jim, told me I wouldn’t finish alone. We’d make it to the top together, one hundred steps at a time. Step by step we counted, resting after every set. While before the half mile had felt unsurmountable, broken down in tiny bits with someone else to walk beside me, it was doable. It was accomplishment and gratitude and so much celebration.
As I near the end of a complete manuscript overhaul in the midst of first-round edits (the second time I’ve re-written this book, by the way), I’ve thought a lot about that moment. I’m a few weeks out from my deadline, and honestly, I’m not sure of the words needed to make it to the end. Right now my focus must be each tiny writing moment, where the story moves forward, step by step.
Friends, I need an extra dose of courage and a second wind, if you have any to offer. Things will be quiet around here until I’ve turned my work in.
When I’ve gone on big backpacking trips and the weight grew heavier, and the trails grew steeper in between mountain passes, we would encourage each other by saying, “You’re a goat!” Sounds weird, but keeping your head down, plodding along narrow, rocky paths, repeating the mantra, “I am a goat. I’m a goat. I. Am. A. Goat. I’m a goat, I’m a goat, I’m a goat” somehow helped, and also, promoted a bit of laughter at times. Take a nice look at the top of the pass ahead, give it a wink, say, “Hey, Beautiful View~ I’m a’comin for you.” Then commence plodding. ๐
Also, drink lots of water.
It’s going to be so very beautiful! Praying for stamina and grace and gentleness for you in these last few steps.
I can’t wait to read it, whatever “it” is!
Little by little, and celebrate with a reward at every turn, even if it’s a “I’m going to sit down and watch an entire episode of ___ to relax” or whatever you find appealing. I find giving myself little rewards–it’s kind of a silly game I play within my own mind!–I am able to slowly cut slowly through whatever I’m stuck in.
Sarah M
It reminds me of the famous phrase from the Essays of Francis Bacon, published in 1625:
“Mahomet made the people believe that he would call a hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his prayers, for the observers of his law. The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill to come to him, again and again; and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit abashed, but said, If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill.”
You will reach your hill, this way or another!
Read Aloud Dad
I so appreciate everyone’s kindness today.
What a poignant post! Yesterday, I read aloud Over in the Wetlands and in the end hugged the book to my chest. That is how your writing feels. It touches the heart. You will make it to the top because you’ve made it before. The view is familiar.
I loved Jessica’s Be a Goat mantra. I’ve got to try that one.
Now get to climbing because you have an audience waiting.
What an inspiring experience to call on in times of discouragement- thank you for sharing! I’m sending best wishes for courage and the stamina to write your way through.
Wishing you all the lovely words and stamina you need – and deserve!! xoxo
You can do it! Just focus on a daily goal, not the whole enchilada.
I followed the bunny trail from We Bloom Here, to Clean, to a Homeschool blog, to here and as usual am floored to find someone who wrote a book I love. I think I have a tendency to believe wonderful books just fall from the sky. I teach 5th grade and read a lot of fiction books. How wonderful, May’s strength. I did not know of the one about early colonies and will have to check that out before we get to that piece of history in a few months. It happens we maintain a bluebird trail at our little school. So very glad to find you.! All the best on your ending, perhaps it will fall right from heaven.
I love the hiking metaphor, Caroline! It is one of the best images of journey and exhaustion I can think of. I remember climbing out of the Sierra at midnight after getting lost with a girlfriend, my brother, and a troop of boy scouts. I have never been that exhausted–or covered in poison oak–before or since. But we lived to tell of it. You encourage me with each step you take.
I don’t know if you’ll read this before your deadline, Caroline, since you’re on break. But I’m in my 2nd round of edits, and last night I told my daughter I didn’t like my story anymore because it was changing so much. She said, “Mom, I bet Jackie Woodson’s early drafts look nothing like her Brown Girl Dreaming book.” That’s when I remembered Jackie Woodson tweeting that she revised BGD about 30 times. I’m nowhere near that point, so I’m encouraged to keep working these revisions step by step. And I hope you are too. ๐
Praying for you.
You can do it!