My dad is my Guru

It’s 1:22 am in India on Nov. 8th 2008. I just called my dad to tell him I love him, and in the midst of our conversation he reminded me why I like him so much too:
The last year and a half (the time it’s taken me to almost complete my masters) has been like a mountain. In the beginning, looking up from the base, it seemed huge, like I would have no time for anything but the climb; no time for life or living. It looked hard, and intimidating and it made me question my climbing abilities. It forced me to challenge my previous (mis)conceptions of the world before I even began packing for the journey.
It turns out, based on the last year and a half, that mountains can have so much beauty and the climb can be so rewarding that you (at times) might barely notice you’re still ascending. I’ve learned so much, experienced beyond what I deserve (grace, friendship, fun, laughter, memories), and lived an incredible amount.
My dad reminded me what a journey this has been, this climb, and that it hardly felt strenuous at all.
Somehow, as I near the end, as I assess my strengths before and after, it turns out I’ve developed some muscle and gained some climbing skills. Despite the ‘experience’ with which this journey often afforded me it seems I’ve grown, bettered myself, and mostly had an amazing time.
And to think, the last year and a half I could have just been standing at the base, questioning my readiness. The peak is in site and I thank God for the people in my life who said, “Fuck fear. Put your shoes on and just start walking.”
And who knows, what seems like the top could turn out to be the hill in front of the mountain…But I suppose that’s the best part: once you’re climbing, you can no longer see anything but what’s right in front of you.
And all I see are blessings.