One of my dominant memories from growing up was how often I thought I had arrived at the top of the mountain, only to discover that just across the ridge was … the next mountain. I graduated from elementary school. Across the ridge? Middle school, of course. And after middle school, high school. And after high school, college. One day I’ll be an adult, I figured. I’ll be super confident and sit on my porch guzzling gin fizzes and I’ll survey my realm and know everything there is to know and be one cool dude.
Well, guess what? it didn’t happen.
It took me a lot of years to recognize a basic truth of life: you never arrive. It’s on to the next mountain. Life is a journey of learning and growth and exploration. It’s all about becoming. There is no there, there.
I should have been wiser. When my memoir, King of Doubt, was published, I thought I was done. This past week, King appeared on Amazon, in blazing color, in e-book, in paperback, with my author page attached, and the bio and the synopsis and the web site and the speaking dates and the blog and … Surely, I have arrived.
Well, guess what?
I’m not complaining. It’s a good picture. The next mountain means the next adventure, more discovery, more learning, more growth. I’m working out my relationship with the To Do list. Learning how to say good night to the list when it’s quitting time, being okay with an unfinished list, knowing that tomorrow will bring new tasks and new challenges and peace within because I know I’m o.k., even with another mountain waiting to be climbed. I’ll do what I can do. Then I’ll go to bed.
The mountain can wait, until tomorrow.