Across the world there are plateaus, highlands of various sizes and elevations that stand above the surrounding landscape. They are all doomed, some of them already in spectacular decline. The Colorado Plateau, for example, has a famous canyon, a gouge (gorge) 277 miles long, ten miles wide, and more than a mile deep in places. The canyon is there because the Colorado River washed away five and a half trillion cubic yards of rock over the course of millions of years. The destiny of any highland is erosive decline. Maybe we should learn a lesson from plateaus.
In South America some plateaus are called tepuis. Tepui means “house of the gods” in the language of the Pemon peoples of Venezuela and Brazil. The indigenous people do not live on tepuis, nor do they visit the sacred lofty tops of these isolated table mountains. In deference to their religion, I won’t ask you to climb an actual tepui, but rather, a figurative one.
In gyms and on fields across civilization, athletes train by reaching physical goals. In academies around the world students improve by reaching intellectual goals. In both endeavors, the metaphor of plateau plays a dominant role. “I bench pressed more today than ever before; I’ve reached a new plateau.” Or, “I graduated from the university and reached a new plateau of accomplishment.” The metaphor of reaching a plateau spreads to almost any endeavor: Making profits, mastering difficult fingering on the piano, getting married, and even becoming more adept at meditating.
When no higher elevation is possible, then there’s a chance of erosion. Just staying at a higher elevation requires effort. Reaching the “house of the gods” is no guarantee that one will stay there. Plateaus have edges and gouges. Without constant vigilance and energy, a person who reaches a plateau can plunge back to the lowlands.
Achievement, as most of us know, can be empty. Look at your trophy and then ask, “What’s next?” Like appetite, the desire for a new accomplishment returns. Glory days in the “house of the gods” is temporary for the restless. You might, however, argue that an accomplished person has reached the ultimate plateau. Why should someone on top keep striving?
The highest plateau in the world is the Tibetan Plateau. It is still rising, but as it rises, it daily succumbs to the forces of erosion that will eventually wear it down. The “house of the gods” will eventually become a pile of rock debris. Is there a lesson? When you get to the top of your chosen plateau, bask briefly in your glorious position, and look out over the surrounding world from the tepui you conquered. In your gaze, see if you can find another plateau to climb and a different “house of the gods” to visit.
In South America some plateaus are called tepuis. Tepui means “house of the gods” in the language of the Pemon peoples of Venezuela and Brazil. The indigenous people do not live on tepuis, nor do they visit the sacred lofty tops of these isolated table mountains. In deference to their religion, I won’t ask you to climb an actual tepui, but rather, a figurative one.
In gyms and on fields across civilization, athletes train by reaching physical goals. In academies around the world students improve by reaching intellectual goals. In both endeavors, the metaphor of plateau plays a dominant role. “I bench pressed more today than ever before; I’ve reached a new plateau.” Or, “I graduated from the university and reached a new plateau of accomplishment.” The metaphor of reaching a plateau spreads to almost any endeavor: Making profits, mastering difficult fingering on the piano, getting married, and even becoming more adept at meditating.
When no higher elevation is possible, then there’s a chance of erosion. Just staying at a higher elevation requires effort. Reaching the “house of the gods” is no guarantee that one will stay there. Plateaus have edges and gouges. Without constant vigilance and energy, a person who reaches a plateau can plunge back to the lowlands.
Achievement, as most of us know, can be empty. Look at your trophy and then ask, “What’s next?” Like appetite, the desire for a new accomplishment returns. Glory days in the “house of the gods” is temporary for the restless. You might, however, argue that an accomplished person has reached the ultimate plateau. Why should someone on top keep striving?
The highest plateau in the world is the Tibetan Plateau. It is still rising, but as it rises, it daily succumbs to the forces of erosion that will eventually wear it down. The “house of the gods” will eventually become a pile of rock debris. Is there a lesson? When you get to the top of your chosen plateau, bask briefly in your glorious position, and look out over the surrounding world from the tepui you conquered. In your gaze, see if you can find another plateau to climb and a different “house of the gods” to visit.
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