As I grow older and the experiences and demands of life pile up, there’s something that keeps sinking in:

You can’t do everything.

That’s widely acknowledged and not a new idea by any stretch, but it sure doesn’t keep us (or me) from trying. But the harder I try at doing everything—well, too many things—the more I disappoint myself. Why? See above.

There’s reward in accomplishing difficult things. And there’s benefit to doing many different things. But doing everything is out of the picture. It’s hazardous to your health. It’s the kind of impossibility you shouldn’t strive for.

However, if you recognize that first bit, I believe it will free you; it will allow you to accept another truth:

You can do great things.

For Christmas I was gifted the book Prayer: Forty Days of Practice. It has a collection of short but powerful prayers paired with thought-provoking illustrations and some brief write ups on practices scattered throughout. I think this one fits perfectly with the topic at hand:

May I find freedom in limitation—

to fully give myself

To what I can do

rather than worry about what I

cannot.

Not long ago, I watched the National Geographic (or NatGeo as the hip kids call it) documentary, Free Solo, about climber Alex Honnold and his quest to free climb El Capitan. It’s quite engaging, and not just because a man’s safety is in a very high state of danger.

The fascinating bit is diving into the mindset of such a person. Alex is not your average Joe, that’s for sure. He’s emotionally distant. He’s driven. His mind is set on accomplishing something no one else has ever done. In a world full of people who have done some pretty amazing things, that’s no small feat.

What soon becomes apparent during the film is that Alex is dedicated to making the climb no matter what. He won’t let anything stop him: not his girlfriend, his film crew, other climbers, or even a previously abandoned attempt. He studies, he trains, he dedicates himself to one very specific (and risky) task.

Thankfully, everything turns out well and, in the end, there is rejoicing instead of mourning.

We all have our El Capitans in life.

Though perhaps not as extreme a challenge, we have something we know we should do, come what may. It’s something that both exhilarates and terrifies us. It demands a recognition of the oneness of life.

The stakes might not look so high from where you stand, or from other’s viewpoints, but it’s still a matter of life or death, of choosing to live the one way you were meant to or instead dying one thousand little deaths of half-hearted attempts.

As Alex recognized, you’re the only one who can decide to climb that mountain. People can give you good advice, God himself can put the passion in your heart, but you’ve still got to reach out and grab it, one precarious handhold at a time.

I don’t know what that is for you. In some ways, I’m still figuring out what it is for me. Maybe you need to try a few other climbs before the great mountain calls to you. Maybe you need to fall a couple times. But, in the final analysis, I hope you do answer the call, I hope you do make the climb, and I hope you reach the top with a big delighted smile on your face as the sun beams down and the ones who matter in your life cheer without restraint.

Then, when it’s all finished, and the celebration ends, I hope you listen to the call of the next mountain and follow the next path up to its peak.

The mountains are calling and I must go.

-John Muir