So many things are a matter of perspective. One person’s problem is another person’s opportunity. Take “pain.” Everyone wants is it to be gone, but it is bread and butter for the pharmaceutical industry. New technologies generally start with limitations and create whole new industries. Poverty is a trap for some, and a motivation to develop, build and create for others.

I was thinking about this very thing and thought of “Getting High.” Immediately, if you lived through the 1960s, you think of one thing. If you are a mountain climber your think of something totally different.

My first awareness of changing perspective was standing in a crib. Seems remote, but I recall suddenly an awareness that there was more “out there” and a curiosity about the potential for exploration. Later still, there were the stairs that led upstairs where my older brothers’ rooms were. At some point, the little gate was removed and “up” was an option. When I was moved upstairs, where my brothers lived, my whole life changed. The toys were better. You could be rambunctious and get away with it. Parents infrequently climbed the stairs. It was a version of “freedom”.(You also had to learn to defend yourself). It was a new stage of life.

It wasn’t long before I discovered the wonderfulness of climbing trees. Negotiating the challenge, built confidence. The reward of going higher was new vision. Big things seemed smaller, and you suddenly saw things in a new context. The boundaries of the backyard were now the larger neighborhood.

But in this there is even a perspective on perspective. Your peers want you to “Go Higher,” to the top where the wind bends the trunk. Your Mom will usually say, “Be Careful, You Could Fall.” Your Mom was thinking “risk.” You were thinking “reward.”

As time passed, there was the Ferris Wheel at the County Fair in Warner Park. At its pinnacle, the idea of “Chattanooga” took on a whole new dimension. Once the family vacationed in Washington DC and New York City. Architecture in DC is grand. Great white buildings and monuments surround the Mall. These mason giants shrank to something smaller and manageable from atop the Washington Monument and the concept of “government” began to form. And in New York, the asphalt jungle of the premier hustling, bustling city looked at least navigable from atop the Empire State Building. You also had an awareness of the seemingly endless capacity of man to build, the very heart of urbanization.

But as one gets older still, the idea of getting a fresh perspective can take serious root. I love mountains. In my teen years we lived on Lookout Mountain. There was a narrow pull-off on Fairy Trail near my parent’s house where the whole Chattanooga Valley could be seen. Many times, either alone or with someone, I sat and took in the vista. Your mind tends to go both up and down. “Up” is about wonder and promise, wind and clouds, moon, and stars. “Down” is about the fixedness of houses, roads, and traffic. The merging of the two is the place of vision. We raised our kids on Signal Mountain. Often, on an evening walk, we would end up at Signal Point. The Tennessee River winds its way below from distant downtown Chattanooga through the Suck and off into the Tennessee Gorge. Your imagination might take in a Tug boat pushing barges and wonder about the machines and lives that made it possible. Or the tiny spec of a car might move down the winding valley road and pass into the distance, speaking of going home or to work.

As the years have passed, “Getting High” has taken on another meaning. My memories resonate with Montreat, Monteagle and Missionary Ridge. These were all places where angels descended, the Spirit stirred, insight grew, direction was developed, and rest was learned. Montreat sits near Black Mountain. For several years we went there during the charismatic renewal and really developed a whole new knowledge and experience of the power and love of God. Monteagle held many memories of escape and renewal. From friendships made, to new music experienced, to walks through the mountains and trips to waterfalls, a tapestry has been created of renewal. Perhaps most unusual is Sherman Reservation, a Civil War park, on the northern end of Missionary Ridge. One night when I was about to start something different in my career, I had a vison of Chattanooga. I knew it had to be from Missionary Ridge, so I drove to see if I could find just the right spot. It was up the hill near the large Iowa monument in the mostly abandoned Sherman Reservation. When I looked over the city, I was moved to pray for Chattanooga. That vision gripped me and for years it led to many wonderful and unexpected outcomes and initiatives.

Getting higher does have risks. You could fall. The climb or trek could be covered with weeds and brambles with painful tears and sweat. But height can also birth vision, ignite hope, and create faith. One perspective speaks of fear. The other perspective speaks of promise. Same place. All that’s needed is imagination to do the magic.

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Doug Daugherty can be reached at dedsr1952@gmail.com