Nine Driveways

The sun rests on the top of the hill.

Gold light rests on the highest roofs. The pavement at the bottom lies blue with shade. Dew shines along the edges of the lawns, and the morning air feels cool inside my nose.

Nine driveways rise between me and the top.

I roll my shoulders. I feel the weight of my feet inside my shoes. My breath moves slowly through my chest.

I say ~

“Today, I’m invulnerable and above all suffering!”

The words make me smile.

I begin.

The first driveway passes beneath the shade of an oak. A squirrel runs along a branch above me, shaking loose three bright drops of water.

At the second driveway, the sun reaches my face.

My steps find their rhythm. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. My arms swing easily beside me.

I say ~

“More and more every day, I get better and better in every way.”

The hill grows steeper.

At the third driveway, I feel the first pull in my calves. The muscles are waking up. Blood moves warmly through my legs.

At the fourth, my breath becomes louder than the birds.

I keep my eyes on the pavement directly ahead. Tiny stones shine inside the gray surface. A yellow leaf lies flat near the curb, trembling whenever the breeze reaches it.

“Every day I’m becoming who I was meant to be.”

The fifth driveway has a blue mailbox.

Sunlight flashes along its curved top as I pass.

My shirt touches the damp skin between my shoulders. My heartbeat fills my ears. The sun is warm on the right side of my face.

At the sixth driveway, my steps shorten.

My chest rises quickly. My legs feel heavy. I place both hands on my hips and rest.

The hill rises through the widening light.

For one breath.

Then another.

A sprinkler ticks somewhere behind a hedge. Water lands softly on broad leaves. A thin stream runs along the gutter and curls around the toe of my shoe.

I look back.

The blue mailbox shines below me now.

Five driveways slope away through the morning light.

“Temporary defeat is not ultimate failure.”

Every step has brought me here.

The road behind me glows in the sun.

The road ahead climbs into it.

I take one full breath and begin again.

The seventh driveway comes slowly. My shoes press hard against the pavement. I feel each push travel upward through my ankles and knees.

“A slow, steady process assures success.”

I keep a slow, steady pace.

I place one foot, then the other.

At the eighth driveway, the breeze reaches the sweat at the back of my neck. The coolness moves across my skin like a hand.

My body wants the top.

So do I.

“We don’t quit! We win.”

The ninth driveway passes beneath my feet.

The road levels.

For several steps, my legs continue expecting the hill. Then they loosen. My breath begins to open. The tightness in my chest becomes warmth.

At the top, sunlight lies across both of my arms.

The roofs below flash gold and white. A hawk circles above the trees without moving its wings. The breeze lifts my damp shirt away from my back.

I turn and look down the hill.

Nine driveways.

“They don’t make ’em like this too often!”

My laugh comes out between breaths.

I place a hand against my chest and feel my heart striking beneath it.

The hill is quiet. The morning sun warms my face. My breath returns, slow and steady.

That is enough.

My pulse softens beneath my fingertips.

I turn toward home.

My legs feel tired, strong, and entirely mine.

Tomorrow, the hill will be here.

So will I.