Comfort from words

I cycled passed a sign sitting on a driveway yesterday. It read “It's not the mountain we conquer but ourselves, Sir Edmund Hillary.”

I thought about it as a rode off down the street. I love tramping and walking in the bush, especially up hill. I think in another life time, I might have made a good mountaineer. The sign clicked something inside of me. Being in lockdown is like climbing an internal mountain. Facing the challenge, each day, of all the things that I can’t do, is my mountain. I like that and it gives me comfort, knowing that my internal dramas equate to ascending a high peak somewhere in the Himalaya’s.  The lockdown is suddenly more bearable. 

I thought more about this, why did knowing what Ed had to say about our internal mountains help me? I wondered why can words give such comfort, even just reading them? How powerful words are. Giving ourselves time and space, to ponder and read can be so enriching. Reading a good story, can stay with me for days after I have finished reading. 

I have read lots recently. I like reading biographies about how people have lived their lives and the amazing things they have achieved. I imagine what I would ask Ed, if he were still with us.

For now, I have to make do with walking my dog along the beach.