The Greatest Mountains Are Within

It was April, a month that usually brings me deep joy, making me cheerful and lively. At the beginning of April, winter sluggishness, fatigue and time for introspection slowly fade away, making room for the energy of spring - the energy of new beginnings and excitement. I spent the beginning of April in Italy and whenever I go there, positive emotions are always present. The hedonist in me wakes up, enchanted by the charm of northern Italy.

But this trip to Italy was different. Actually, this April was different. In just a few days I experienced what some people might pack into an entire calendar year. And in just few hours of one April day, I had a flood of insights that I'd be processing for weeks.

Noise Creates Unpleasant Vibrations

We spent our nights in Verona in a rented apartment on the noisiest, busiest street in the city. The constant noise left me exhausted. I stopped hearing my own thoughts, which were drowned out by the sound of sirens and traffic. At night, I could only sleep when exhaustion finally took over me and my dreams were a mix of science fiction and horror.

The energy of this place felt dense and heavy, so leaving Verona for San Giorgio mountain was the right call. It was as if someone had pressed the reset button. Instantly, all the noise and heaviness disappeared. The only sounds were my own breathing, birds chirping and the rustle of the wind.

It's been years since I’d last been on a mountain. I missed being out in the cold, fresh air. I wanted to walk, to climb peaks - or so I thought. When my partner suggested we climb one of the summits, my first thought was "I’d rather stay in a warm house and write," but just as quickly as that feeling came, it passed. Within 15 minutes, I was completely ready to head outside.

Then I saw the mountain ahead and it no longer seemed appealing. On the contrary, I was completely unimpressed. My body pull backward, my mind pulled forward. I didn't want to give up despite weather conditions. I don't know whether consciously or unconsciously, but I decided to ignore what my body was telling me.

Fear Creates Resistance in the Body

When we started climbing pretty equipped, a light, annoying rain began to fall. Then it started snowing. The wind picked up, at times blowing straight into our faces. I felt a growing intuition telling me to turn back and with every passing minute, that feeling got stronger.

However, soon I started to notice my breathing changing - I was taking quick, shallow breaths. My mind was flooding with thoughts that made the whole situation feel terrifying. The mountain became steeper and impossibly high in my eyes. Suddenly, I was overcome by a strong fear of heights. The snow was far too deep to walk normally, so with every step my legs sank up to my knees.

Every time my feet sank, I was cut off from fear. I thought I was falling into a bottomless pit, like the mountain might swallow me whole. In those moments, I felt an instant heat erupting from inside me and my blood boiling wildly. No amount of support and understanding from my partner could help, because the fear was so powerful it overwhelmed every atom of my body.

Scream Breaks the Fear

Then, fear finally and completely paralysed me. I stood frozen, unable to move in the middle of the climb. I couldn’t take another step. I started to cry hysterically.

I was so blocked by fear that I began to hallucinate and see things that weren't really there.

The mountain seemed to narrow rapidly on both sides, its edges closing in around me. I felt like the height would kill me. My gaze stayed locked on the only spot that didn’t make me feel sick — my feet. Whenever I tried to continue up the mountain, I would slip and stop breathing.

Tears ran down my face so much, freezing my cheeks, nose and mouth. I stopped feeling my feet, legs and hands, as if someone had cut them off with a sword. My body was shutting down. I felt like the mountain was about to swallow me completely.

Then I screamed at the top of my lungs - that was a scream of helplessness and fear. But along with it came anger. I was angry because I was scared. Deep down, I knew it was an irrational fear that had me paralysed, one I couldn't fight off. I was mad because fear was so much stronger than all my attempts to convince myself there was nothing to be afraid of.

My mind kept playing tricks on me and even though I was aware of it, the fear still blocked me. I wanted the agony to end any way possible. I wanted those terrible feelings to disappear instantly.

Seeing me frozen in place, my partner stepped in to help. His calm words shifted my focus from the fear to my breathing. They made it easier to keep going and while his advice helped, it couldn't fully erase the dear. He tightened my crampons and we carried on - but those last 50 meters to the top felt endless, as if the climb would never be over.

Still, beneath the paralysing fear, I noticed something else surfacing now and then - a stubbornness, mixed with anger, that gave me just enough strength to reach the top.

Victory Over Fear Brings Peace

When I reached the summit, the view was incredible. I looked out over valleys, villages, the peaks of Dolomites and the Apennines, Lake Garda. I stayed silent, quieted by my tears and fears. I barely spoke the rest of that day, even after coming down from the mountain.

When the adrenaline and survival mode faded, I felt like a deflated balloon. There were no highs or lows - just emptiness. That fear had drained me. I simply existed, gazing at the mountains and the scenery around me.

In that silence, all the motivational "mountain" quotes started echoing in my head, one after another. And only then did I truly understand them, because I had lived them.

“It’s not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.”
“Every mountain top is within reach if you just keep climbing.”
“Your faith can move mountains & your doubt can create them.”
“The hardest mountain to climb is the one within.”

Gradually, I became proud that I had managed to climb, to fight myself and the avalanche of obstacles that had overwhelmed me. I realized I had to conquer the mountain within before I could conquer that untouched, powerful, wild peak.

From the top, the descent seemed at times scarier than the climb. But I followed my partner’s steps and walked the path he took. The plan was to climb one side of the mountain and descend the other, where wild goats, marmots, and other animals usually roam. But this time, there was not a single animal in sight. I believe my crying and screaming scared them away.

Peace Creates Faith in Yourself

By following my partner’s steps, I realized why creating my own path is more valuable than following someone else’s footsteps. After an exhausting descent, when we reached a flatter but deep snow, I separated and started walking my own way. While he kept sinking under the weight of the thick snow , I felt like I was finally walking on solid ground, carving out a path with surprising ease. I realized that walking unfamiliar terrain - and even creating your own path - doesn't always have to be difficult.

Although many lessons came out of that four-hour hiking, the most important one was this: never, ever doubt the intelligence of our physical body. If the body says NO and persistently sends signals that we shouldn’t do something, it’s wiser to listen than to fight against it. That day, I stubbornly silenced my intuition.

Until that unplanned mountain experience, I had never heard my body speak so loudly and clearly. I never reallt gave it the chance to decide - my mind was always louder. Since then, I learned to ask my body what it wants and how it feels. And though it was a hard lesson to learn, the truth is that the most valuable life lessons often begin as mistakes.