The unclimbable mountain

You stare sullen, at the unclimbable mountain that is located before you, how do you feel?
So many mixed emotions...
Irritation, fear, frustration, apathy...
Love, care, comfort, nostalgia.....

To look at this never-ending mountain of colours and fabrics; textures; variety... does it make you crave for the minimalist life? Or do you feel elated by the comforts of affluence just waiting to be caressed by your hands as you weave magic as you assiduously fold, sort, iron and hang the array of fabrics laid out before you?

Which side of this unclimbable mountain do you reside?

The minimalist life is what I crave. Simple. Deliberate. Mountain free. To be able to cherish the accoutrement in my wardrobe and love and savour the feelings of the fabrics, ahh, to have the luxury to love and appreciate the tiny threads that are woven together to create the simple means to hide my state of raw exposure..

Alas, my abode is abundant in many unclimbable mountains; ones clean; ones unclean; ones of unknown provenance. All ready for me to attempt to climb. However, the fear I have is insatiable. For I well know, as I attempt to climb but one of these unclimbable mountains, another is bound to be burgeoning in my wake. Does this fear present itself to everyone?

How does one come to love the mountains of colour and texture that never end? What motivates a person to continuously endeavour to conquer this unattainable location? Will I ever see the top of this unclimbable mountain? What awaits me when I do?

So is my life, and the constant query I have in relation to my familial position... The untaught views of a woman's duty to her family are but mere secrets that I daily struggle to uncover.

This I have now come to discover, this chaos of unclimbable mountains, that continuously burdens the halls and rooms of my dwelling, I perceive as a reflection of my inner psyche..

So I shall explore the halls of my inner psyche via the phenomenal world of creative writing.

Shall you journey together with me?