These pics are from last week's trip to Cusco, Peru.
Jordan and I went on a short trek that was mind-blowingly beautiful. We were completely isolated, traveling along dirt paths worn smooth by horses and donkeys, often littered with sheep and llama droppings. Sometimes there was no path. We traversed up mountains, traipsed down gorges, and even stayed the night in a tent on top a mountain, home to a 700year old Incan temple. At one point, the path clung to the side of a 13,000foot cliff. Looking down, I was terrified - even immobilized by fear and vertigo. To overcome, I shielded my peripheral version and looked across at the majestic vista, clinging to the beauty that I could almost touch.
I have never been one to let fear hold me back, but then again, I have rarely felt fear as tangibly as I did on that cliffside. I began to wonder, am I more fearful the older I become? I know I am....
Is it because I now intimately and innately realize the delicate balance that lays between life and death, hope and despair, love and hate? As a child, I never knew to fear death. Never learned to fear much of anything other than disappointing my family. As an adult who has been broken, fragmented, and hurt more times than one could count - I wonder if fear is now an inevitable part of my life?
No matter how much I did not want to be afraid, I was....Yet by focusing on the beauty, and turning away from the cliffside, I was able to put one foot in front of the other. I was able to continue, and in doing so, I embodied hope.
