If all difficulties were known at the outset of a long journey

Hear the words of Dan Rather, a voice forged in truth and trial, who once declared: “If all difficulties were known at the outset of a long journey, most of us would never start out at all.” At first these words seem but a warning, yet in truth they are an anthem of courage. For the heart of this saying is not despair, but hope—it is the reminder that life conceals its burdens for our sake, lest we be paralyzed by the sight of the mountain before we take our first step upon the path.

In this teaching, the journey stands for all that is great and worthy in human life—dreams, callings, and destinies. But the difficulties, though inevitable, are veiled at the beginning, for if we saw their full weight, we would shrink back in fear. The gods, in their wisdom, give us only the first mile, not the whole road, so that we may grow strong enough to endure as we go. Step by step, hardship becomes endurance, and endurance becomes triumph. Thus, the struggle we feared at the beginning becomes the very forge that shapes our greatness.

The ancients knew this truth well. Consider the voyage of Odysseus, who at the start of his return to Ithaca could not have borne the knowledge of storms, monsters, and years of wandering. Had he foreseen all trials at once, his heart might have faltered. Yet by enduring them one by one, he grew wise, cunning, and enduring, until at last he reclaimed his throne. So it is with all who walk the path of destiny: the unknown protects us, even as it challenges us, for it allows us to begin without the crushing weight of foresight.

Likewise, in our modern age, think of the pioneers who first set foot on the vast frontier of America. If they had known the droughts, the winters of hunger, the loneliness of endless plains, many would never have left their homes. Yet because they began, even in ignorance of the full trial, they carved out towns, farms, and nations. Their courage was not the absence of fear, but the willingness to take the first step despite not knowing the end. Thus, Rather’s words are not lament but honor—for he reminds us that greatness comes only to those who step forward into mystery.

There is also wisdom here about the human spirit. We are not built to face the entirety of suffering at once. We are meant to endure it in measure, as time delivers it to us. If a man saw all his grief, all his struggle, all his loss before it happened, he would collapse before even beginning life’s race. But the merciful veil of the unknown allows him to live day by day, finding strength in each sunrise. This truth is not weakness—it is the divine rhythm of survival, the way mortals walk toward eternity.

Thus the teaching is clear: do not be dismayed by the fear of what lies ahead. Do not ask for the map of every storm before you set sail. Begin your journey, knowing only this: the road will be hard, but you will be harder; the nights will be long, but you will endure. Let each challenge teach you, strengthen you, shape you. Trust that the burdens you cannot yet imagine will be met by the strength you cannot yet see within yourself.

The lesson for us is this: take the first step, even in uncertainty. If you wait for perfect knowledge, you will never begin. If you demand certainty, you will miss the path entirely. Act boldly, trusting that you will grow as the road unfolds. For as Dan Rather reminds us, if we knew all difficulties in advance, we would remain still, and the greatest triumphs of our lives would never come to pass.

So let your action be this: embrace the unknown, begin despite fear, and trust that step by step, the strength you need will be revealed. For only those who dare the journey find the treasure at its end, and only those who begin, though unknowing, will one day stand upon the mountain and say, “I have overcome.”