Le Mont St. Michel is an island fortress that rises out of the mud flats at the edge of the Atlantic ocean. Inside the walls the road climbs upward in a series of concentric circles. At the top of the fortress is a medieval monastery, crowned with an ancient Abbey, the abbey crowned with a golden statue of St. Michael killing his dragon.

Most visitors walk the winding road that leads through a gauntlet of shops that have been selling souveniers to pilgrims for over a thousand years. And then there is Cameron who, looking down a narrow alley, sees a set of stairs carved into the rock face and heads straight up in an easy run, arriving at the top, barely out of breath, looking over his shoulder with a follow me if you can smile.

I follow slowly, with much groaning and many rest stops, and get to the top eventually. He says he is proud of me. I am proud of me too.

We look around a bit and then he finds an even narrower crack in the wall that leads back down into town and we take it, turning sideways where his shoulders are too wide to walk straight through. When we slip out of the crack at the bottom we startle two tourists and Cameron laughs all the way to the gate.

Three morals in this story:

1. The long and winding road will get you there eventually.
2. The straight and narrow way heads directly to the top.
3. The path you take depends on the kind of shape you’re in. And how much shopping you want to do along the way.

Yours with creativity and imagination,

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