“These mountains that you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb.” –Najwa Zebian

I whisper to myself, “put them down.” I know better, but I cling on tighter. The muscles in my hands are strained and my shoulders are tense. I’m holding my breath; “But I can carry it.”

They are mountains. The mountains of control. The mountains of doubt and disappointment. They are mountains of boredom and loneliness. They are mountains of, “it’s not supposed to be like this.” They are mountains of martyrdom. Mountains of change. Mountains of fear. Mountains of motherhood.

My arms are filled with pebbles and boulders. A juggling act, perfected. My mountains give me purpose; they give me a cause. They give me something to talk about. They give me a reason to grieve. They are my badge of significance. “Look how big my mountain is…”

“You who are weary, cast your cares on Him and He will give you rest.”

I hear it, but I continue to hold my breath. I still have mountains to move. Highlands to bear. They are part of me. Can’t you see how important this mountain is? It’s heavy and insurmountable. My arms are full. There is no seeing above or beyond… but the whisper strikes again in quiet force;

“Put it down.”

I hesitantly let them slip through my fingers. My anticipation of a crashing avalanche of rock and stone, was instead met with stillness. The world was still moving. Humming. But this time there was a view, a horizon, sights of magnificence and awe. I could see above and beyond. I could appreciate how far we’d come. It was light. I could breath. I noticed others climbing as they soaked in the panorama of the mountain, using their free hands to help others. But there were also those, those like me, striving upward while picking up every rock and stone on the way… trying to carry their mountain.

I wave my arms and shout, “Put them down. We are free!” But the boulders were keeping them busy. “Look how big my mountain is…”

Is this why we feel so weighed down? Are we carrying things that are not meant for us? Are we collecting things that don’t add value? What do you need to let go of? Maybe it’s time to take a deep breath, open our hands, and surrender our cares and worries to “The Mountain”.

Something shiny catches my eye. I stoop down and pick up the little handful of glistening stones. They fit perfectly in my hand.  I whisper ever so faintly,“put them down…”

 I hide them in my pocket…“I can carry it.”

“It’s not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.” –Sir Edmund Hillary