It's a beautiful summer day in the Italian Alps. The mountains stand tall against the intense blue sky. "It's the perfect day for hiking," says my father. Honestly, he always finds it perfect for hiking unless there is a severe storm. For me and my very young legs, not so much so. Anyway, I'm a child; I have no voice in the matter. So, here we are hiking. It's mid-morning, and I'm already tired. It's time to start our little hiking ritual.
"How long until the end?" I ask, hoping for this torture to end very soon.
"Almost there, after the next bend," he says, smiling.
We both know we have a long way to go before we reach our destination, yet we play this game as we always do.
Bend after bend until we get to the end of the trail.
I woke up with this memory.
I think about it anytime my going gets tough and I'm tired.
A part of me wants to give up and, like me when I was a child, starts asking, "How long until the end?"
And I can hear my father's voice saying, "Keep up. You're almost there. After the next bend."
Once, I told him that he was lying because the destination was not after the bend. He replied that the arrival is always after the next bend; we just don't know how much later it is.
So, if you're struggling on your path and wondering how long it will take to get where you want to be, just remember: It's after the next bend.