The Mountain, My Name is April

It’s both an exciting and disappointing time when the sun begins to rise before me in the morning. Exciting because an early sunrise signifies longer days, warmer weather and a breakout of my many, many pairs of denim shorts. Disappointing because it becomes a groggy-eyed what-is-life mission to watch the magic happen.

There’s nothing quite like pedalling up a mountain only to look up mid-handlebar chew and have your breath taken away by the first glimmers of light peeking over the range, lighting the sky up with hues nostalgic of fairy floss and my favourite colours in a pack of crayons. As the sun rises and spreads its light and warmth, the rays greet you like an old friend; re-invigorating the determination to summit the mountain and have a larger-than-life descent on the other side.

2016 has been my mountain, and with every sunrise I have pedalled towards I have found renewed hope and invigoration to summit. As we begin the T- countdown to 2017 my anticipation for the descent is rotating my metaphoric pedals faster. I can almost feel the wind tickling my cheeks and bringing tears to my eyes; exhilaration coursing through me and filling every sense of my being as I face and experience a whole new set of challenges associated with the other side of a mountain.

2016 has been an interesting climb. I’ve been involuntarily thrown back in time, forced to revisit past experiences and face new ones. I’ve discovered yet another piece of myself I never knew I needed, or was even missing. And amidst those discoveries, I’ve lost others, and am still unsure of what the consequences are for the misplacements. Something I’m sure I’ll discover as I hurtle my way down the other side.

It can be easy to give up halfway through a climb. Legs burning, eyes stinging and lungs on fire. Every false summit, every corner that presents yet another ramp; the seemingly never-ending uphill grind can be tough on even the most experienced, professional of climbers. But without fail, that elevated, exuberant feeling when you finally reach the top will never hold a candle to the pain and determination it took to get there.

The pride, sense of accomplishment and strength gifted for achieving the uphill battle will stay, and will be what you remember long after you have descended, making you hungry for more and driving you to conquer bigger, badder mountains.

Defeat isn’t, and never will be, an option. Failure is almost a guarantee, but tomorrow is a new dawn, a new day; and with it a whole new mountain for us to summit. I promise the effort is worth it. Stay here. Stay with me and we will do it together.

I don’t know what 2017 has in store for us, but, in the wise words of J.M Barrie…

To live will be an awfully big adventure.

– J.M Barrie, Peter Pan

This cliche, completely-not-inspired-by-Miley-Cyrus post is dedicated to anyone who has ever decided life was too tough, and wanted to give up and leave. I swear to you, the grass isn’t greener on the other side. I much prefer you here, right where I can see you and touch you. Life is full of mountains, but I promise it is all worth it. 

The Mountain, My Name is April

Different types of family law.

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