I Am A Mountain (A Meditation)

I am a mountain.
I will endure.
What other choice is there, really?
To tumble into the sea in quaking rage?
To blow my top off in a spasm of self-immolating anger?
I have tried these ways. They only lead to misery and needless suffering.
A trail of tears. My own, yes, but others’ too.
Those I love.
Those I’ve sworn to protect from pain and suffering.
I have been and continue to be an imperfect mountain. This much is clear.
But I keep practicing.
The mountain-in-me says: BRING IT ON!
Let the wind and rain and snow and sleet lash me on all sides with their full force and fury.
What am I to do about the weather, after all? Nothing. I am only a mountain.
Let the relentless sun parch and enflame me with its incandescent brilliance.
What am I to do about the sun? Nothing. I am only a mountain.
Let the earth below rumble and shift and buckle and heave.
What am I to do about plate tectonics? Nothing. I am only a mountain.
Let the careless throngs tread on me and pollute me thoughtlessly.
What am I to do about inconsiderate people? Nothing. I am only a mountain.
What are these things to me?
Nothing. I am only a mountain.
I can only endure (hopefully gracefully) whatever indignities befall me.
I can endure because I know these things cannot change me.
They cannot alter me in any way.
They cannot provoke me to be anything other than what I am: a mountain.
Unless I let them, of course.
But I won’t. And I don’t (mostly).
Because I can’t. Not anymore. It could – it will! – lead to my destruction, eventually.
That much I’m sure of.
So, I resolve to remain rooted to the earth beneath me.
It is a sometimes precarious perch, geologically speaking, but it’s the best purchase I can expect, under the circumstances.
With my foundation firm beneath me I can turn my gaze upward, at the bottomless sky and the endless mystery beyond.
I close my eyes in gratitude for being a part of this beautiful mystery.
I feel it deep inside my core. My heart-ore warms, expanding to fill all my mountain-nooks and mountain-crannies, radiating love to those around me: other mountains, aspiring mountains (mountain-lettes?), even piles of rubble.
Being a mountain is not only good for me, it’s good for everyone around me.

It's good for the world.
Go look at a picture of a mountain. What do you see?
I am a mountain.
I will endure.