what binds us

a few days ago I hiked to grandeur peak, a local favorite that begins with a steep-sided upward journey alongside a shaded creek, then moves through a series of switchbacks to reach a view-dripping saddle, and ends with a twenty-minute climb graced with unending vistas, a few brief scrambles, and finally a landing on a rocky, scrubby peak. the brief “scrambles” have toe-holds and often good handholds, and if you reflect, it’s evident that most of us who utilize this route experience the same thought process, the same decisions, and the same method of getting securely up (or down) the sketchier places. my feet seek out the exact same ledges those before me have.

one such place has a tree on the right of the trail, and after I grabbed one of its old, stunted, broken-off outshoots to keep myself upright on the steep slope, I turned around and went back to take a picture of that smooth, polished-by-thousands-of-hands-over-the-years branch. if you look closely, you’ll see how the branch on the left is darker, burnished over time by me, and by people just like me; the branch has been buffed by sweaty palms, gloved and mittened hands, cool grasps of those who hike in the chilled early morning.

as I hike such a traveled trail, I realize what binds us is much greater than what sets us apart. we each love, seek to be loved, strive to plant ourselves firmly wherever we are, and reach for that which might stabilize us.

I reach for the polished branch without much thought; it’s almost instinctual to grasp what can keep us upright.