I’ve found myself singing Carrie Underwood’s latest hit, Love Is All That Matters. The overall message is uplifting, but I keep getting drawn back to one line — “Sometimes, that mountain you’ve been climbing, is just a grain of sand…”
That rings so true to me, and reminds me of a favorite saw of my dad’s — don’t make mountains out of molehills. Yes, he told me that many times, and though the lesson stuck, I’ll admit there have been instances where I perceived things to be bigger, or badder, than they were. It’s part of human nature.
Those seemingly insurmountable odds are a wonderful vehicle in fiction, but they can be a defeating one if you’re on the creative edge and the sand starts piling up. Sometimes it’s hard to tell at first (or second or fifth) glance the scope of our particular challange. Like a sandstorm, the true picture can be obscured.
I see people as bits of sand, being blown by life over the dunes of time to mound or drift on. Some grains find purchase and welcome others to pile up on them, creating a refuge–their own mountain of support. Others never find a place to rest, and are soon worn down to dust.
Our very lives sift through a miniscule hole in the hourglass of the world, marking our days, minutes, seconds. That’s never been more obvious to me than now when my mom is battling a terrible illness.
We need to make the most of life. Now. And we need to stop looking at those molehills as insurmountable obstacles, or we’ll never stand a chance when we do face that mountain.
So I’m ignoring the Mt. Impossibles and focusing on the things I can control, like writing another historical novel, and going over my final copy edits for One Real Man.
Life. You should love it to live it to its fullest. 😉