The Glory and the Yakka: A Mountain’s Secret

It was supposed to be a journey. A quiet retreat away from the buzz of the world. But when Jonah arrived at the base of Mount Orm, he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. The mountain was shrouded in mist, its towering peaks veiled by the grey sky. He had heard stories about the mountain—rumours of hidden caves, old artefacts, and even whispers of a long-lost treasure. But Jonah was not here for any of that. He was here to find peace.

At least, that was the plan.

Jonah had recently walked away from a high-powered corporate job, burned out from the constant grind. His mind, his body, his soul—all had been running on empty. He had read about a mysterious mountain retreat, an ancient place where monks practised silent contemplation and connected with the divine. It was just what he needed: serenity, quiet, and an escape from the chaos.

He trekked up steadily, the trail winding up through the dense forest. The further he went, the quieter it became. There were no sounds of animals, no rustle of leaves—just the echo of his own footsteps on the rocky terrain. By the time he reached the summit, the clouds had thickened, obscuring everything below.

Jonah stumbled into the retreat’s courtyard, a vast, open area surrounded by stone walls. A single monk, rugged up in deep brown robes, stood by a simple stone altar, his face calm and chilled out. His eyes glowed faintly, almost as if he were a part of the mountain itself.

“Welcome, brother,” the monk said, his voice soft but commanding. “You have come for a reason.”

Jonah nodded, unsure of how to respond. His mind was already filling with questions. Why was the monk alone? What was the secret of this place?

The monk seemed to read his thoughts. “You seek peace. But peace requires more than quiet. It demands facing the truth—truth that may be uncomfortable.”

Jonah did not understand. He had left his past behind—he wanted solace, not questions.

Before he could ask anything more, the monk raised a hand. “Come. I will show you.”

They entered a small stone chapel at the centre of the retreat. Inside, Jonah was struck by the stillness. The air was thick with a sacred feel. But the monk did not stop there. He led Jonah through a hidden door in the back, down a narrow stairway into the bowels of the mountain itself.

The underground cavern was vast, stretching far beyond what Jonah could see. The monk pointed toward an ancient stone door embedded deep in the rock.

“This is the heart of the mountain,” the monk said. “Few have entered. And fewer still have left unchanged.”

Jonah’s heart raced. He could feel something—something ancient and powerful—inside that door. “What is it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The monk’s expression softened, almost as if in sorrow. “This is where glory and hard yakka meet. The mountain is not just a place of divine connection but of testing. Many come seeking glory, but few are willing to face the hard yakka.”

The monk gestured toward a torch lit with a steady flame. “The glory you seek on the mountain is but a shadow. But beyond this door, you will find the truth. You will find the cost of true transformation.”

Jonah’s instincts screamed at him to turn back. The comfort of the mountain’s chilled-out atmosphere had been intoxicating. The allure of divine glory, of a peaceful life away from struggle, had begun to work its magic. Why risk that? Why face the harsh truths of life when he could just stay here, basking in the peace that seemed so easy to obtain?

But something in the monk’s words struck deep. The glory and the hard yakka. Jonah did not know what that meant, but he knew he had to find out.

Taking a deep breath, Jonah stepped forward, his hand pressing against the cold stone of the door. It creaked open, revealing a cavernous room. In the centre was a pool of water, still and reflective. The air was thick with energy. Jonah stepped closer and looked into the water—and for the first time in a long while, he saw himself.

Not the clean-cut corporate man who had walked away from everything. Not the man who sought peace to escape the world’s chaos. But the truth—the real him, covered in the grime of his past decisions, the mistakes, the guilt, the greed, and the pride he had never faced. His reflection seemed to pulse, revealing his brokenness, his fear of truly changing, and his unwillingness to dive into the hard yakka of life.

The monk’s voice echoed in the silence. “We are all drawn to the mountain for glory, but few of us are willing to face the mess we have created in our lives. We want to stay in the light, in the beauty of the transfiguration. But true change comes when we step down; when we engage with the struggles, the failures, the things we would rather avoid.”

Jonah’s knees trembled. He understood now. This was not just about leaving his job. It was about confronting the harsh truths of who he was, facing the hard yakka of life that he had always tried to escape. The glory of the mountaintop was not enough anymore.

He looked into the still waters once more, feeling the weight of his past and the challenge of what lay ahead. This was where the real journey began.

With a deep breath, Jonah turned from the pool and looked at the monk. “I’m ready,” he said.

And as he stepped back out into the world, the mountain’s clouds began to part. The trail was no longer just an escape from the world—it was a call to step into it fully, to embrace both the glory and the hard yakka.

And in that moment, Jonah understood that true peace did not come from avoiding the hard things; it came from embracing them, facing them head-on, and transforming them into something sacred.

The Glory and the Yakka: A Mountain’s Secret
(shorter version)

It was supposed to be a journey. A quiet retreat away from the buzz of the world. But when Jonah arrived at the base of Mount Orm, he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. The mountain was shrouded in mist, its towering peaks veiled by the grey sky. He had heard stories about the mountain—rumours of hidden caves, old artefacts, and even whispers of a long-lost treasure. But Jonah was not here for any of that. He was here to find peace.

At least, that was the plan.

Jonah had recently walked away from a high-powered corporate job, burned out from the constant grind. His mind, his body, his soul—all had been running on empty. He had read about a mysterious mountain retreat, an ancient place where monks practised silent contemplation and connected with the divine. It was just what he needed: serenity, quiet, and an escape from the chaos.

He trekked up steadily, the trail winding up through the dense forest. The further he went, the quieter it became. There were no sounds of animals, no rustle of leaves—just the echo of his own footsteps on the rocky terrain. By the time he reached the summit, the clouds had thickened, obscuring everything below.

Jonah stumbled into the retreat’s courtyard, a vast, open area surrounded by stone walls. A single monk, rugged up in deep brown robes, stood by a simple stone altar, his face calm and chilled out. His eyes glowed faintly, almost as if he were a part of the mountain itself.

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