“People may spend their whole lives climbing the ladder of success only to find, once they reach the top, that the ladder is leaning against the wrong wall.” – Thomas Merton
I remember the first time I heard these words. Heard? No. Felt. I felt them. And I don’t mean a soft nudging or gentle tugging at my heart. These words slapped me across the face.
It was at a time in my life when I was so focused on my ladder and poured my heart and soul into climbing it. I revered my ladder, truly convinced that it would take me places, that it would perch me atop the world and bring all of the success that I could imagine, and, in turn, that it would bring true fulfillment to my days.
The problem with my ladder was that it always demanded that I climbed higher and higher in order to validate its existence. It required that I left many of the things that I wanted to carry with me at its feet so that I could scale its heights unhindered. It required that I pushed further and further in order to be seen on its highest rung. I looked for the highest wall that I could find, a wall that was well within view of all whom I deemed important. A wall that could never be scaled without agility and skill… and my ladder.
I had failed to realise that ladders, like all things that lean for support, are unstable at best, and shake with every movement, reminding us that we were meant to coexist with gravity, not fight against it. That we are made to be grounded, not perched on high, unreachable and unrelatable.
I was so focused on stabilising my shiny ladder that I failed to examine the wall on which it was leaning. I failed to calculate where this ladder lead.
Friends, the good news is that ladders are not only for climbing up, but also for coming back down in safety. The even better news is that ladders are easy to move, once you remove your weight and shift your purpose.
Instead of revering your ladder, and counting the rungs of success, focus on the wall on which it is leaning.
Does this wall lead to contentment and satisfaction? Or is it unscalable, requiring that you climb higher and higher each time you thought that you had finally reached the top?
Does the wall lead to connection? Or does it form a boundary around the things that really matter in life, preventing you from making meaningful contact?
Does the wall promise immeasurable riches? Or does it in fact cost you much more than you are willing to pay?
I’ve moved my ladder.
It’s now resting securely alongside a wall that has firm foundations and grounding. A wall that doesn’t make unrealistic demands of me or my ladder. A wall that easily allows me to sit on top of it and invite others to join me and enjoy the view. A wall that might not be seen as spectacular by many, but which surrounds and protects the people who matter to me the most.
Look for such a wall. And, if you must, move your ladder.
After all of the climbing I had done in the name of giving my loved ones everything they could ever want, I’ve learned that the only thing they’ve ever really needed is for me to sit with them on a wall, and hold their hand.