Sometimes you have the hammer and chisel in your hands. Sweat running down your face. You stare hard at the mountain in front of you. You are not going to chip away at this mountain at this level. So you start towards the base of the mountain. There is wind and rain. Pounding in your face. Many boulders are laying about. You hardly notice them. But you have to climb over them. Interesting. Seems something is helping you. You have stopped hammering away but you have found a friend. An old and trusted friend. One you have forgotten about. Time.
