Mountainous Amount of Trust

Ethan Falkenberg
Sep 4, 2018 · 3 min read

By Jonas Chap

I still remember the icy burn of ice shoved into my face and down my back like it was yesterday. The sudden cold unexpectedly shocked my body, bringing tears to my eyes and blurring my vision even more than the ice stuck to my face had already. I still remember my sobbing as I ran for the safety of the cabin door, my body contorting every time the snow touched my skin. Yet it was something about that snow and seeing my family out their throwing snowballs back and forth always drew me back, making me forget all the unwanted pain. That cabin, that snow has had a special place in my heart since before I can remember. Just as the snowballs outside were formed, the mismatched rugs, and the old Foosball table shaped the way I am. During those billowing snowstorms it was a mug of hot chocolate that seeped the warmth back into my veins, and it was during those scalding humid summers that a glass of iced lemonade would stop the heat in its tracks. It was these small things that made the Sierras feel like home, however I took all the beauty around me for granted. I let the wind blow me around without a sense of direction, but before I knew it I had hit the ground and my carelessness had been stripped from me.

I often struggled with the idea of trusting people and confiding in them, and spent many hours brooding on my own problems. I began to start losing focus in school and slowly weakening bonds with my friends. All of these thoughts stewing in my head obviously wasn’t healthy. My parents tried to help, but I continued to confide in no one but myself even though I knew they were right. I had sledded to the bottom of the hill, but refused to allow anyone to help me carry the sled back up the hill.

Despite all of these things tumbling and stirring around my head, something about the mountains helps them all dissipate. The cabin gives me a time to really think, and the space to do it away from society. It allows for a peace to wash over me where I don’t have to worry about all of those problems in itty bitty Petaluma. It was in these walls that cutthroat games of sequence and chicken foot were played, and the inside jokes to go along with them were created. And it was by that cozy fire that stories would be told and I could let my mind rest in “fantasy land.”

Just as no snowflake is the same, neither is a human being, making it impossible to pinpoint how my future may look someday. Just as the trees are freed of snow in this picture, so will the burden be lifted off of me. I hope that when these storms come in my life I will have someone that I can talk things through with. Just as I associate the mountains with peacefulness tranquility, I hope to have an escape just as this one where I can withdraw from the chaos of the world and realign my perspective. The cozy fireplace and games around will not cease. It is a guarantee that I will surround myself with the friends and family that I love, not only to strengthen friendships, but to have fun! Snow will not smother me, but rather make up my steep sled runs and smooth skating and the blinding whiteness will create my clean slate onto which I will write my own future.

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade