The ascent is dangerous and difficult. The path up the mountain began to disappear in the skyline fueling discouragement and resentment. In the moment, I was fully aware of my fear and inadequacy. Failure was very possible, though necessary. In fact, the reality of, not just coming up short, but failing publicly and miserably, and the sting of not being able to reach the goal in front of me was just paralyzing. It still is at times. In response, I doubted the coordinates of my path and destination, I rationalized what was sensible and I stood very unsure of the support promised. I was briefed at the base camp as to what I should expect and what I should do along the way to reach the top. But the fact remained, I had never climbed a mountain before.

For years, the dream was struggling to stay alive. I learned to live within, but not without. I was the attacker of the dreams and hope within. Like virus attacking my immune system, my addiction and need for controlled outcomes, consumed me. It felt like a transmission continually slipping, never gaining traction and momentum.

The only way to learn is to engage, shift gears. Not in your thinking and praying, in your doing. The only way the dream lives is if you live the dream.

What do you dream about?
What keeps you from the ascent?