A short story about finishing strong, from the Batu Caves outside Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

“Excuse me, but is it worth it, going up?”

I looked at him, obviously tired, struggling up the steps with his young child in his arms: young enough to crawl up into his arms, old enough to weigh too much to carry up a long flight of steps.

I looked up behind me, at the last twenty-odd steps that would take him over his unknown horizon, to a place I had just started to descend from, the deepest part of the caves open to the public.

His prior glimpses of what’s ahead …

Up Ahead, Batu Caves, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

… ahead of him, the last steps …

Last steps, Batu Caves, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

… and directly behind him, the known:

Deep, Batu Caves, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

“Yes, it’s worth it. You’ve gone this far. It’s important to finish it off, right?”

A small, tired smile crept across his face, breaking the line of sweat dripping down his face in the hot, muggy, post-thunderstorm air.

“Yes, you’re right.”

And he trudged on.

But I feel the same way. I’m tired from a year of travel. I’ve got a little over two weeks left before I return home from my current trip, the latest in a year of wanderings. I’m tired of sleeping in hostels, figuring out how to get from one point to another, searching for the daily necessities, exploring new places full of similar sights.

I’m ready to get home and tackle a new set of challenges.

In the last couple weeks, my energy has been flagging, propped up by the gentle and not-so-gentle reminders from friends to keep going, to get on the bus, to find a little magic, to explore the world around me right now and enjoy the opportunities of the present.

That’s the advice I gave him, to enjoy what was so close, to go over the horizon, to finish strong.

Time for me to listen to my own advice.