The climb

I thought I was close. There was a fog up there, but at times I could see the peak reveal itself, for a brief moment, as a vision inviting me to keep going up. Keep climbing. What you seek is up there behind that veil of clouds.

I started this journey about 20 years ago, when I first learned about this mountain. There were sprints, stops, long walks up, maze-like paths. Sometimes I would lose track of time, and no matter how tired I was, I would keep going, as a kid in a playground, hoping dinner time was forever away and the afternoon sun would stand still. Most times I felt like Sisyphus, when every step up dragged me two steps down. This mountain had side roads, different paths that look easier and even inviting. Ah, and you can quit anytime, which makes taking every next step up even harder. Sometimes I would find myself fighting gravity holding on with two fingers, trying to secure a foothold in the dark. How did I end up here? But I would hold on. And the morning would always come showing another way up. 

It was sunrise. I stopped to see the view.

This particular mountain is my love for drumming. The view was Cairo, the center of Arabic music, dance, and percussion. The fog started to lift and I could spot new mentors there to welcome me: “You arrived! There is so much to show you!”

The sky was finally clear. The peak was not a peak. It was the first way station. The mountain kept going up and up, with even steeper walls, but with the promise of spectacular views. 

I had to remind myself that with any mountain, most people don’t even come this far. You had to become good to get here, but to face those new menacing walls up ahead you would need to trust your foundations and step again into the unknown. A true master is only made when he can become a beginner again and again. Was I up for it? 

I looked down. I could see the path taken: the Arabic orchestras I played with, the world music groups I joined, all the dancers I played for, the band I created, all the times I almost quit, all the mistakes I made on stage, all the music I created, the decision to give up a home and be a world traveler - the climb so far. Wasn’t it enough? Sometimes on our struggles, we can’t even see how far we had come. It was good to reminder all these milestones along the way. 

But now the real climbing was about to start. 

I looked up one more time at the beauty of uncertainty revealed by a sun that refused to stand still. I’m not gonna stop. I am going up one dum and tak at a time, until I find the path. I wanna see what’s up there. 

Because it’s there. 

Deep down I hope that this mountain goes on forever.

And that the climb never ends. 

… and I hope my little tale helps on your own climb. 

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