Little Mountain

A memoir, written one week at a time. By Blake Mundell

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24

“What's your greatest heart's desire?”


    What immediately comes to mind is a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel from Frothy Monkey. And a white monkey mocha.

    That’s a tough and crazy-important question! What’s my greatest heart’s desire? I believe it wasn’t a thing I mustered up myself, but something given to me. I might even say the same heart’s desire was handed down to us all, and that is, the longing for something steady, absolute, undying.

     But heart business is funny, I think. I tend to be suspicious of anything it tells me, because I’ve learned that apart from pumping my blood, it’s a rather unreliable organ (and even with blood-pumping, you never know when it’s going to up and quit). So when my heart says, “Blake, think about how things will change once those people like you,” or “you can’t live without good friends around,” I think about whether the things I long for are actually steady, absolute, and undying things. If they’re not, I know that there’s much greater heart’s desire somewhere in there.

     So long story short: my heart’s greatest desire is for eternity. But it’s pretty confused and deluded about how to go about getting there.