Climb Like a Donkey — Toward a New Perspective

It was a summer afternoon back in 2023 — a sweltering Rajasthani one, the kind where the heat wraps around you like a heavy cloak. Temperatures soared above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. The sun didn’t just shine — it beat down on you, relentlessly. The ancient stone beneath our feet radiated stored heat, turning the climb into something elemental.

We had stopped at Ranthambore Fort on our way from Jaipur to Ranthambore National Park, where we were headed for a tiger safari. It was just my two boys and I. My younger son looked up at the long, seemingly endless staircase and groaned. “Stairs,” he muttered — a tired echo of Po from Kung Fu Panda, staring up at his greatest foe.

I smiled. “Cheer up. This is an experience. Life is one big experience — and if you understand that, you understand the meaning of it all.”

As we began our slow ascent, monkeys peered at us from the ramparts, clearly eyeing our water bottles. Then I noticed something unusual: a man guiding his donkeys up the same path. But instead of climbing straight, they moved at a gentle angle — diagonally across the steps, instinctively conserving energy with each stride.

Curious, I tried it myself. It worked. The strain on my legs lessened. The motion felt more natural. Angling the body in steep terrain helps distribute effort, protect joints, and conserve energy — a method mountain goats, bighorn sheep, and other animals use instinctively. Even the smallest shift in how we move can change everything. Animals retain that natural harmony with nature that humans seem to have lost.

I tried it myself. The shift in movement was immediate — the strain on my legs softened, the rhythm steadied. Animals like mountain goats and bighorn sheep use the same angled ascent to preserve energy on steep terrain. Even kangaroos, though built differently, have evolved motion that’s powerfully efficient. Humans, on the other hand, often charge straight upward, spending energy faster than we need to, and, yet, nature often whispers a better way — not always faster, but wiser. Sometimes, wisdom is just a matter of watching closely.

This is the value of observation — not just as a passive act, but as a way of discovering truth. Life isn’t only about doing; it’s about noticing. In a world where so much of our time is spent indoors — behind desks, on screens, in cars — we’ve grown detached from the natural intelligence around us. But it’s still there, waiting. You can see it in the way a vine stretches toward the sun, or how life pushes up through cracks in stone. Even in a park, sitting quietly, you’ll see how people carry stories in their posture, in their pace — hunched backs, tight shoulders, hurried steps, nervous energy.

That day, watching those donkeys, I was reminded how much nature still has to teach us — and how often we forget to look.