Rolling the boulder up the hill
I feel like Sisyphus. Rolling the boulder all the way up the mountain only to see it roll all the way down the mountain. Again and again. Feeling like Sisyphus might not be that accurate, as it isn’t quite sure how he really felt. Camus said he had a smile on his face, probably of acceptance and even some satisfaction that that was the purpose of his life.
I am not satisfied and I am not smiling. But the image of my journey lately is very similar to that of Sisyphus. My goal is to come over the mountain, with or without the boulder… well, depending on what the meaning of boulder is. If it is my body, then preferably with it.
Whenever I feel I am building trust, self-confidence, purpose, I begin to climb the mountain with a smile, strong, determined. But then, suddenly, myriads of doubts start pouring down from the skies, harsh, unbearable, and I have to let go of the boulder, of the confidence, trust, belief in myself, just to watch it go down hill with nowhere to grab on to. No brakes. Free fall.
Would an umbrella help me prevent giving in to the doubts and judgements? With an umbrella I wouldn’t be able to push the boulder, I would be one handed, not enough to carry all that weight. Make a roof? How long? How hard?
I become desperate, irritated, completely lost and even angry. Where to turn to? Does this lack of self-confidence and belief come from the sudden collapse of my body?
Picture: Lake Tahoe (USA).
