Once You Believe That God Is Speaking

Weeping...betraying A Sense Of Loss So Huge And Irreparable That The Mind Balks At Taking Its Measure.

The Endless, Agonizing Recycling Of What Might Have Been, Soon Followed By A Litany Of Rationalizations And Self-deceptions As You Struggle To Reconcile The Void Between The Person You Want To Be And The Person You Fear You Are.

Early On A Difficult Climb, Especially A Solo Climb, You’re Hyper-aware Of The Abyss Pulling At Your Back, Constantly Feeling Its Call, Its Immense Hunger. To Resist Takes Tremendous Conscious Effort, You Don’t Dare Let Your Guard Down For An Instant. The Void Puts You On Edge, Makes Your Movements Tentative And Clumsy. But As The Climb Continues, You Grow Accustomed To The Exposure, You Get Used To Rubbing Shoulders With Doom, You Come To Believe In The Reliability Of Your Hands And Feet And Head. You Learn To Trust Your Self-control.

Now What Is History? It Is The Centuries Of Systematic Explorations Of The Riddle Of Death, With A View To Overcoming Death. That's Why People Discover Mathematical Infinity And Electromagnetic Waves, That's Why They Write Symphonies.

I Think Part Of The Appeal Of Antarctica Is Experiencing Some Sort Of Power, The Forces Of The Natural World.