By Marianna Schmiesing

When I lived in an old Carthusian monastery in the foothills of the Austrian Alps (how many people can start a blog with that phrase??), my room, for one of the semesters, was at the top of a very long staircase. 50 steps, bottom to top, elegantly curving in an arc, and just steep and narrow enough to threaten a hard tumble if I wasn’t watching my feet. 

At the start of the semester, those 50 steps intimidated me. But then I thought, “Every day can be leg day.” By climbing 50 steps 5+ times every day, I would be sure to leave the semester with at least some killer calf muscles. 

And so, at the start of the semester, I would run up those stairs, or at least confidently stride up, ready to EMBRACE THE PAIN, BECOME THE PAIN, CONQUER THE PAIN. I thought I would eventually get to the point where I would laugh at the idea of 50 steps. I thought, through daily repetition, I would be able to bound up those stairs at any time of the day.

But the novelty of leg gains quickly wore off. 

And climbing the stairs did not become any easier.

In fact, it was harder, because I wasn’t just fighting my body every time I dragged myself back up the concrete curve, but I was fighting myself mentally.

“You’ve been doing this for a month! You’ve scaled mountains higher than this! Why are you out of breath?? Lay off the bread!!”

Some days were better than others. Some days I had the energy to leap up two steps at a time. Other days, I would hit that first steps and all my muscles seemed to slip like Jell-O from my bones.

It didn’t make sense to me why this climb wasn’t getting any easier.  And why were some days vastly more difficult than others? Why wasn’t my body learning? (And like I said, I had scaled MOUNTAINS and had better success.)

Looking back on that semester of the V STEEP STAIRS THAT WERE ALWAYS DIFFICULT TO CLIMB, I think climbing those stairs would always serve a challenge, no matter how long I lived there.

Because now, with one more measly year of bumbling experience, I have found that there are many things I need to do every day or frequently. Things like praying. Being nice to people. Brushing my teeth.

Some days, it’s so easy. I can easily spend an hour in adoration. I spend the whole day smiling and talking to people. I brush AND floss.

But other days…

There is so much value to forming good habits, and the only way we can do that is through repetition, but I must have also formed a misunderstanding of habits. A well-formed habit doesn’t take over your actions once it is strong. It’s not as if your body is suddenly a self-automotive machine, and you can sit back and sip some tea. No; you’re still you. You still have your free will. You’re still influenced by the passive-aggressive comment someone made to you a month ago. You’re still fighting against a natural tendency to hide under a rock. You’re still tempted to drink too much, share too much, drive too fast, judge people. 

You’re still unquestionably human.

In our human nature, our human environment, weighing all our desires, considering prudence and temperance—there are so many factors that go into each and every decision. And even though you easily conquered the staircase yesterday, you’ll have to climb it again tomorrow. 

I want to end this hopefully, but also while avoiding any reference to a certain Miley Cyrus song titled, “The Climb,” (well, there it is). I don’t like spending time worrying about how tomorrow’s staircase might be difficult or trying to figure out how many times I’ll have to climb it in the future. 

Because I can climb the staircase. I can climb it many times during the day. Sometimes I don’t give it a second thought and sometimes I have to take a break on the second to last stair or even the second from the bottom stair. But my lack of enthusiasm for the process doesn’t take away from my ability.

The mundane, tiring steps are a necessity, and I don’t have to enjoy them. But I do have to embrace their reality, in both the challenges of today and the unknown struggles of tomorrow.

You can do this, sweetie. One step at a time.