How To Climb A Mountain

So it's 10:30 at night and I'm very sleepy, and I just remembered that I need to throw together a blog post. I recorded the song this morning, that means I'm done, right??

And now I am sitting at the cluttered kitchen table, the only light coming from my computer screen and the white Christmas lights strung around the ceiling. I am typing to the dulcet tones of Jamie munching on Tuscan white bread spread with my mama's homemade blueberry-maple jam. It's a lovely, comfortable setting, and it occurs to me that at some point I should record a few blog videos from my kitchen, since it's pretty much my favorite room in the house.

On the other hand, I'm not sure how much of a hipster that would make me, a disillusioned 20-something blogging from her kitchen.

ANYWAY. This week's song is about mountains, in a metaphorical sense. Whenever I get anxious over having to do something lengthy and difficult--such as working nine-hour shifts through Sidewalk Sales, or completing all my finals at the end of a semester--my mother puts it into perspective for me by turning it into a mountain. "You're at the bottom of the mountain and the summit is a long way up, and when you look all the way to the top, it can seem like an impossible climb. But if you just focus only on each step at a time, each small task on its own, it'll become a lot easier."

Goddammit. 

So I think about each final paper on it's own, rather than the sum of all the pages I have to write. A shift at work is not eight endless hours stretching on into the evening: it is one hour, then the next, then another. In one more hour, I'll go get some tea. In one more hour, it'll be half-way through the day. In one more hour, I can take my break.

Semesters and jobs aside, I've found that this is a good way to look at a lot of distasteful but necessary things in life. Nonetheless, it's sometimes hard to draw back from the big picture and look at it as anything less than the sum of all the parts, rather than each part individually. While I'm climbing that mountain, it's really difficult not to let my gaze get carried up to the top, mentally measuring the distance between myself and the endpoint.

This was one of those awesome songs that basically wrote itself. As soon as I got the idea--less actual words or music and more of just an image of a mountain in my mind--the was essentially already there, fully formed, melody and all. I love it when that happens, but it sort of make me wonder where the song is coming from, since I feel like I contributed so little to it: it simply sprang from the depths of my mind on its own!

I'm sorry for the video quality this week. I feel like the lighting is sort of off, a little too bright and/or washed out. I think what this basically means is that I shouldn't record in the late morning. Early afternoon or evening is where it's at!

What are you, new? Go to the first post to find out what this blog is all about!