Going up the hill

I should figure out whether this is a metaphor, simile, or analogy.

There’s a walking path near my house, frequented by most Atlanta residents. Right alongside the Chattahoochee River.

Lots of foot traffic, lots of neat outdoor scenery – all within city limits.

There’s one section of the path where foot traffic dies down. It’s about 1 mile into the path.

Cause there’s a hill. This hill:

Chattahoochee River hike hill

The shade dissipates in this section, which aggravates things in hot & humid summers. I’d say the temp sans-shade is +15 degrees. Maybe more. When you leave the canopy of cool and comfort, it’s the wall of heat & humidity.

And then, the hill.

Most folks tap out at this point. A quick hip shift, sneaker squeak, & retreat, car facing. “What a great workout.”

The hill is still there, though; smirking.

Eventually, I uncovered the fact that the hill was a loose metaphor. If I’d have said, “life is sometimes like going up a steep hill”, then we’d have a simile. And if I’d said “what you’re doing here is as challenging as hiking up a steep hill”, it’da been closer to an analogy. But it appears I chose the metaphor.

Unbeknownst, the hill is the challenge. The hill is resistance. The hill is uncomfort, uncertainty. The hill is our ever-changing identity.

And that’s uncomfortable for some folks. They hip shift, turn, & retreat. Without understanding what’s up the hill, beyond the crescent.

For me, though, as I grew older, I cast those concerns away, and joined the folks that simply kept walking. Past the tap out point. Up the hill, over the crescent. I’m not here to say I’m some superman with an iron will; I’m here to say I’m the least talented of most folks I know. But only because I dismissed the brief pain & uncomfort of the hill, was I able to reap some benefits of that challenge. A re-invention; identity cleanse; a shift of purpose. I now sorta seek it out; cause I realize other folks avoid it; and understand opportunity may arise after some brief discomfort. It feels like a treasure hunt.

And in this case – the hike – if you eclipse the hill, at the tail end of the path, there’s at quiet waterfall. In the center of Atlanta. Tucked away under a bridge. Minding its own business. I’m usually there by myself. I like waterfalls.

click & drag below:

top of the falls:

 

below the falls:

 

above the falls (on that bridge):

 

I didn’t know this existed until I simply walked up that hill. The waterfall is like a little angel [simile], and you wanna know what? If you endure the brief angst of the hill, the hike is as rewarding as a high-five after you conquer a claw machine at Chuck E. Cheese [analogy].

did I do that right? Blech, who cares. ‘life is life’ as Sloane says.

/fin


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