Quick is the fall, Slow is the climb

Quick is the Fall, Slow is the Climb

Understanding the steep path to strength.

Personal reflections by a fellow traveler. Not AA-approved literature. Shared in the spirit of experience, strength, and hope.

Standing at the base of the mountain, the climb looks impossible. The peak is hidden in clouds, and I wonder how I’ll ever make it. So, I lower my head, take a breath, and put one foot in front of the other. The climb is slow. The air feels heavy and my lungs struggle.  Some days, the mountain mocks me. But each step forward matters.

There are times I slip. Pride, selfishness, and self-centeredness sneak in, and I lose my footing. I slide backward, watching progress I thought was mine slide away. The fall is always quicker than the climb. But when I stop, turn, and look behind me, I realize how far I’ve come. I see others just beginning their journey, standing where I once stood—unsure and broken. Their presence reminds me that even with my stumbles, I’m higher on the mountain than I was yesterday.

Recovery is not a sprint. It’s a climb—slow, steady, demanding. But it is also faithful. Each step matters, each slip teaches, and every handhold of grace holds me steady. I will never conquer the mountain in one leap, but if I keep my head down, keep climbing, and keep trusting, I will rise.

The pace of progress can sometimes be frustrating, ever reminding me that there is no perfection.  I just do the best I can.

Where have you slipped lately?