It's starting to become clear to me that my life is starting to become what the Rocky Mountain foothills seem to model. Ups, downs, and sometimes a peaceful, boring straight-away. But yet, there's always a hill to crest that I can't see over. And the way back down is always uncertain. Sometimes it's a slow, steady decline that I don't seem to realize until I've hit the next hill, while other times it seems to be a sheer drop-off that usually promises to break my legs on the way down. Some people would find comfort in stopping to rest on the crest of a hill, and enjoy the scenery for awhile. It's understandable as well. But personally I can't seem to keep myself in one place for very long, and believe me I've tried. It's as if the whole world underneath me is hollow and the longer I stay in one place, the more of a chance I have of falling straight down into the depths of the earth that I'm unfortunately doomed to go anyways. I have this feeling in my gut that it's going to collapse any moment, that type of feeling you'd get if you stood overtop a cliff, looking down, with someone standing behind you with every right to push you off. Unfortunately I've got too many people with those kind of rights.
What I've come to realize that life isn't about staying alive the longest, or getting all the wealth in the world before you cash out. It's not about fighting for something, or even loving someone. It's about making sure people will remember you once you are dead. A legacy, something for people to hold onto. Whether it be a message, a lesson, a child, or even a memory. It's about coming into contact with as many people as possible, maybe even change their lives somehow. For better or worse, that change will make the person remember you. Even just giving a person a hand to hold makes a world of difference.