Life often feels like an endless series of hills, valleys, and mountains. At times, these obstacles seem insurmountable, daunting, and overwhelming. However, as Dag Hammarskjöld once said, “Never measure the height of a mountain until you have reached the top. Then you will see how low it was.” I have always loved this quote, especially when paired with the metaphor of climbing a sand dune—an experience that shaped my understanding of life’s challenges.
When I was a child, my family would often vacation in Michigan, a long drive around Lake Michigan, through Indiana, past fireworks stands and blueberry orchards, all the way to a small town nestled on the western edge of the state. There, we would visit the towering sand dunes. The climb up these dunes was brutal. My legs cramped, my feet burned in the hot sand, my back ached, and my hands grew gritty from crawling on all fours just to get a little further up the monster hill. Yet something always stood out to me as I struggled up that slope—something I still carry with me today.
Each step forward was met with a microscopic slide backward. The sand, shifting underfoot, made every ascent feel like a constant battle for traction. It can be a perfect metaphor for life. We often move forward, yet there are times when we feel as if we are sliding back, even though we are still trying to advance. And just like that sand, life is dynamic—it resists control. We cannot expect to have perfect control over every aspect of our journey. The more we try to control, the more we will likely struggle with feelings of frustration.
Here is the thing: the sliding is not the enemy. Rather, it is part of the process. Just like the sand beneath my feet, life is not always linear progress. It is about learning to accept the backward slides without judgment or self-criticism.
This brings us back to something we were often taught as children: “Fall down seven times, get up eight.” Or perhaps more familiar, “Rub some dirt on it.” These lessons about resilience were well-intentioned, and they often come with an unspoken expectation to always push through, no matter the cost. And even though perseverance is important, we must also recognize that growth does not always happen in a linear fashion or as we expected it “should” work out.
This brings us to a crucial concept: radical acceptance. It is a term that may sound like resignation at first, yet in reality, it is the active process of accepting life as it is, without judgment. It does not mean approval of every circumstance, nor does it imply passivity or resignation to the way things are. Rather, it means making a courageous choice to accept life’s imperfections, difficulties, and unexpected setbacks—just like the constant slide backward while climbing the dune.
Acceptance is not a one-time decision; it is a continual practice of turning your mind, again and again, toward reality—embracing the fact that things are not always in our control. In that way, radical acceptance is very much like climbing a sand dune: exhausting, humbling, and ongoing. Yet the more we practice, the more we realize that even the discomfort of the climb—of the slides—is part of the journey.
If we are honest, it is not always easy to let go of the need for control, and denial often feels like a more immediate, albeit painful, response to life’s challenges. Suffering is not the inevitable result of life’s unpredictability. There is a way out of suffering, and it starts with showing up—again and again—choosing to engage with life despite its unpredictability and discomfort.
So, how do we begin? We must be realistic about our efforts. Like the sand dune, the climb does not always happen quickly or without difficulty. Some of us may seem to take to life’s challenges more easily, just as some are natural climbers or athletes, while others need to practice. This is true for all skills, including the skill of living.
As we face life’s dunes, we need to ask ourselves: Who do I NOT want to be? The person who perseveres with self-compassion, acknowledging the slide as part of the journey, or someone who continuously battles the sand, resisting the inevitable shifts? Radical acceptance does not mean abandoning our dreams or giving up; it means making room for growth, even in the face of setbacks.
So, as you climb your own sand dunes—whether they are personal, social, or existential—remember this: the mountain may seem high, yet once you reach the top, you will see how far you have come and how low it was all along. And as you slide backward just a little with each step, remember that it is part of your process.
Keep climbing, keep accepting, and keep showing up.
