The Realization

As a kid in high school I often was told that a journey of a thousand steps began with the first one. I still can distinctly remember how wide eyed I would get when I heard of such proverbs. I would make a conscious effort to remember it, quote it and use it at the drop of a hat. I believed it. As I grew I up I was told that well begun is only half done and I needed to be ‘at it’ consistently so that I build the structure on the foundation which was my beginning. It seemed logical to me, almost axiomatic. I led myself to believe that the hardship would taper off as I reached the apex. I reasoned that I had a strong foundation supporting a painstakingly well laid road of nearly a thousand steps which would lead me out of the woods.

There was something that never occurred to me and that I was never told. The goal is an important thing but the means to the goal supersedes the goal in importance. The effort put into every step of the journey increases exponentially. This meant that the final step towards the goal needed the maximum effort. This is an antithesis of the hardship theory stated earlier. This realization rises like a phantom to haunt me. The fallacy of the proverbs, the shattered belief in them mock at my naiveté in believing them. A theory which was unconditionally upheld is now put to sword.

It’s the feeling of a life’s loss over the turn of a coin. I must start afresh knowing fully well that the final step calls for the summation of my life’s efforts. I will have to push away the baggage of past successes. I will have to take on it as a man with no credibility, one whom no one trusts, one who has to go all the way alone and one whose ego and honor lie at the mercy of the outcome of the final step. My facilities have greatly depleted. I am left with no ability, skill, nerve or heart but just the will which says ‘go on’. The pressure is taxing, the silence deafening and the calm before the tempest menacing. It feels like an invisible indomitable force is trying to cage me. Shackled and claustrophobic I plod along in vacuum knowing that the roar which follows victory shall be mine.