A Visit from Prometheus

Mollie's Ridge Shelter
Mile 174.1

Do you remember fire?
I had forgotten it. In fact, I had forgotten it so utterly that I denied its existence. Its remnants were ephemera, brilliant little mayflies that would not survive the next day at the office. Moments alone with Monica. Little sparkles in the gym that made me think, "That was a good workout". Writing a tight essay, or doing an especially good animation. Fire, I had determined, was something stupid and young.

Climbing these mountains and thinking about where my life is going to lead, I can see how incredibly wrong I was. Massively, horribly wrong. Fire is all there is. If what you are doing does not burn a great fire in your belly then something is seriously wrong. Time without purpose is worse than being dead, because you suck all the same resources as you did when you were alive. Eating, sleeping, but unfeeling, undead and unaware.

If there is one word of advice the trail has for me today, and for the rest of my days, it's this:

Burn.