I once sat on a mountain top.

There's a line from a Jay-Z song that I really like, and it goes:

They say a midget sitting on a giant's shoulder can see much further than a giant/That's why I got the whole rap world on my shoulder trying to see much further than I am

This line has always appealed to me. There's something about thinking that you have so much insight into the world that everyone else is always trying to piggy back onto you-- it's extremely flattering. Why shouldn't it be? I'm beginning to realize that I probably do not fall into this category, no matter how much I want it to be true.

I fight daily for stability, for insight, for knowledge and wisdom. I don't like feeling like I don't know something. It doesn't excite me. I like being comfortable. I want to be a giant.

I may never reach this kind of understanding of the world. I think God will keep me from it until I'm wise enough to handle the power.

It's still something I strive for.

I realized how small I was a week or so ago. I hiked up Stone Mountain with Aida at sunset. It was probably the most spontaneous thing I've done in a while. I really enjoyed the fresh air, the aerobic burn, the light, and the perspective it gave me.

After we raced the last couple hundred yards up the mountain, we both laid down at the top. I was astounded at the silence and yet the palpable rumble from the world around me. I could actually feel how small I was in the universe. It was like I was looking at myself from space. I felt so insignificant.

While it wasn't the first time I have felt like this, it definitely was the first time in a long time. And after being through everything since the beginning of the year, I felt relief. I forget that no matter how good or bad my life may actually be, I really don't matter in the greater existence of time, space, the universe---love, hate, war, peace... This world keeps turning, keeps rumbling, unaware of me. God keeps me going and takes care of me, and that's who I need to be focused on. I guess it's hard not to think about God when you're that far removed from the rest of the world.

And that realization felt really good. I don't have to figure anything out. Wow. I realize now that I've been limiting myself by trying to know what my future has in store for me. I set boundaries for myself that way. I want to live with no boundaries, with nothing holding me down. I don't wanna sit on a giant's shoulder, or even be the giant. Shit, I don't even know if this analogy really even makes sense anymore. It probably doesn't. As corny as it sounds, trying to be the giant, or the midget, or whoever, is still putting myself and my life in a box, and I can do better than that by just living life and letting it work out the way God wants it to. Scary, but intriguing.

I remember that Aida and I talked about whether or not we'd live on the mountain if we were homeless. We thought it'd be a good idea until it got really cold really quickly. I realized that being on top of the world, above the world, apart from the world, wasn't really ideal. So I decided to come back down and live my life. It felt very strange walking back down, like I was giving up on an ideal that I thought I wanted but realized I wasn't ready for. It was relieving to walk back down to the familiar and normal.

Maybe I sound like I'm reading waaaayyy too much into a walk up Stone Mountain. But it was a strange experience. It was a wonderful experience. I wasn't really planning on having such a profound hike. But I did, and I can now say I once sat on a mountain top, and realized that's not where I really belong.