The hills we die on

Take a good look at the hills you’re willing to die on. Are they grand, craggy peaks that the wind whips around, stunning sprawling vistas down below? Or are they ant hills – with hidden tunnels that shelter stinging things just below the surface? 

There are many moments in our lives when we are called to something but in so few of them do we ask who’s calling. Are you beckoned by a voice of reason or the inklings of your gut? Or is it something darker, more twisted? Can you trust your source?

In the end, you answer foolish calls, you wind up on foolish hills. Pinned to your cruel injustices, you’ll lay there for eons before you realize that you missed the point. There are countless ant hills and mud huts and landslides that we can call hills in our times. The trick is seeing past them to the range in the distance.

Die on one of those hills, find something big and important and in the way and throw yourself upon it. Don’t settle for the small, superficial parts of life. Find something impactful and everlasting and mount yourself to it. 

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