The last step upward, the last rung
Those in between moments during which you never even complete a breath because your panting falls irregularly, overflowing into more than one, your body suddenly requiring larger-than-life lakes of air
Those in between moments you never notice because your consciousness has already jumped into that next one: brighter, more space and more air.
Suddenly you are above the treeline & you’re looking out towards where you came from.
& you emerge from the in-between
& you’re looking back towards where you came from.
You are on top of your world.
But you see so much more than just your own path; suddenly you have a 360-degree view. It’s just as you were told the whole climb up here: you’re not alone.
Now your breath, that moment you emerge from the in-between and you’re looking back towards where you came from, is, too, a living, breathing thing.
A breath that allows itself to be beautiful
Allows itself to rest because that’s all it needs to be doing
Allows itself to be cradled by the world spread beneath it:
Allows itself to float, drift, dissipate across the horizon, the way the smoke of a campfire predicting stormy weather listlessly spreads into adjacent spaces.
Allows itself to open its eyes wide enough for it to catch at the beauty of the world spread beneath it: blue and green, dusted with the frosty haze of distance, yet still clearly, ferociously alive
In the moment that this breath occupies, is it a mountain you are summiting? A water tower? A rock face? A day? A year?
You emerge from the in-between & you’re looking back towards where you came from.
This moment is one of the best moments.
This moment is one of lightness.
This is a moment of peace.