There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to leaning in. Stepping ahead, slowing down, gaining traction, sometimes even resting. Hints here and there—leading, reaching, stretching—all progress in this journey.

There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to letting go. Noticing moments filled with movement; movement filled with moments. Some are silent and others not. Some are focused more than others. A mix of sorts, obstacles slowly falling away, leaving room for air as well as airing.

There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to learning. Exploring ups and downs, reflecting on what’s over, up ahead, or coming around. Changing ever changing, discovering what’s important and tossing what is not.

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John,
and led them up a high mountain by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them;
his face shone like the sun
and his clothes became white as light.
And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them,
conversing with him.
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply,
“Lord, it is good that we are here.
If you wish, I will make three tents here,
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
While he was still speaking, behold,
a bright cloud cast a shadow over them,
then from the cloud came a voice that said,
“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;
listen to him.”
When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate
and were very much afraid.
But Jesus came and touched them, saying,
“Rise, and do not be afraid.”
And when the disciples raised their eyes,
they saw no one else but Jesus alone.

As they were coming down from the mountain,
Jesus charged them,
“Do not tell the vision to anyone
until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” – Mt 17:1-9