Climbing

The floor was a long way down, as far away from his mind as it was from his physical body.
The great thing of doing this was the focus required. It was his kind of meditation, clinging to a rock, reaching for the sky.
In this situation he found out the best was not thinking, just concentrating on where to put his hands, the next notch, his feet, clad in their special shoes which made possible for him to use a surface a third width of one needed for bare feet.
His mind was in the present. He could feel the wind, caressing his skin as a lustful lover would; the sun, creating the perfect temperature; the smell of the rock, so close to his nose; the noise of his own breathing and of the world’s inhaling. He was aware of each of his muscles, the tension was exhilarating, his legs were answering the challenge, he could feel his right biceps pushing against his forearm.
Suddenly he felt his stomach plunge, that feeling you get when you think it is possible you may fall. The realisation of how fragile your life is. At the same time there was a strange sensation mixed with it, the one he had only experienced the day before at the ruins. A strong knowing that there is much more out there and in him, a sense of connection to the whole, of being an unlimited being. It was so weird, like looking at the bottom of the well of yourself and seeing a galaxy there.
Then there was the bird. Flying over his had a millimetre far from his helmet. Bloody bird, he just hopped to be far enough from the chicks.
At the same instant he was acknowledging these feelings, along with the sensation of slightly releasing his grip on the rock, he realised all that was a consequence of a single thought.
A profound realisation; an answer to a question that had been plaguing him for the last few days.
He regained his focus, his strength, his sanity and continued up carrying The Answer with him.

(Orble Votes: 38)
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