stairs and life

This is an article that was recently printed in Diario Vasco. It immediately felt like a footnote in the book "My Attempt to Figure Out Life". I like the emphasis on gaining perspective in this metaphorical outlook...it's definitely not about the despair found in Plath's fig tree. This is my translation from the Spanish. So, a look at another metaphor in hopes it may give us a grasp on the real thing.


"Those that have arrived to the seventh floor tell us that, although their feet are heavy, the view was worth the journey. If you peer out and look below the ground goes blurry but if you search along the horizon you see a beautiful and calm landscape.
We learn to climb stairs before we learn to walk. We advance with insecure steps, propelled by innocence, until the first floor, and upon arriving and looking backwards, we discover that the stairway has been erased, that the only way out is up. Each floor is painted a different color, each landing is a different meeting place. Between the first and second floor there is, thrown on the ground, a white album. You go on completing it with the experiences you run into on the stairwell. At first we have so much curiosity that we would climb the huge steps two by two but, after the second floor, we aren't in as much of a hurry to arrive. From the third the stairs seem taller. It's a stretch in which it is easy to trip up because each step implies a decision. On the fourth floor there is a wooden bench. You sit and confirm that your soles have begun to wear out. Then you discover that, any day, one of these doors can be opened. You jump up and for the first time you help yourself up with the banister to be able to continue.
Of all the floors of this building I don't know which is the best. We are all only concerned with reaching the top floor, but a neighbor told me that once you arrive on the seventh floor, the only thing that you regret is not having enjoyed more each step."

*guille viglione, translated from the Spanish article in the Diario Vasco