|The fog starting to lift around two o'clock|
As I continue my struggles up the mountain, I notice an old Japanese man walking on the left side of the path ahead. With a pole in each hand, he’s moving slowly up the hill. He has to be hurting more than me but his steps are slow, deliberate, persistent. Just seeing him, I have an epiphany: I am using the brute-force technique. There is no grace; it is about an accomplishment to get somewhere. This old man, though, walks with a stillness that allows him to find an alignment with his natural rhythm.