Adam's Third Mistake
We had scaled to the highest point. An outcropping looked out over a valley below and a small village. "I have lived there most of my life," my friend said, pointing a crooked finger toward the small settlement. He had at least three decades on me. He never shared his actual age, but his gray hair, wrinkles and wisdom gave him away. "It is where many come to raise their children. There is little to be concerned of down there." "That's why we moved here," I replied. He took a deep breath of the mountain air and stated, "It is, however, difficult to not become complacent." I wasn't sure what he meant by that, 'complacent'. I didn't give a response, so he continued. "The good life. The peaceful life," he said. "It causes us to think we are on the brink of paradise. We are not. We are farther than most. We bear little weight. The scaffold on your back is but a piece of kindling. You barely feel its burden...