Last month my wife and her sister and I drove 5000 miles around the western States. We experienced some incredible things. California’s redwoods, the great Grand Canyon, Painted Hills, The Loneliest Road in America, a Ghost Forest off the Oregon coast, and the beautiful paradise of Zion National Park. Oh, and a shocking low flyover by two fighter jets in the middle of nowhere.
There are so many stories to tell. But I want to share just one moment:
Our first day in Zion, we hiked four miles of switchbacks, through narrow canyons and along sheer drop offs, all the way up to Observation Point. We could see the tiny paths we’d just come from over two thousand feet below. For a while we just sat at the top and breathed it in. It was so peaceful and beautiful.
Suddenly I found myself looking at life through a different perspective. For an amazing moment I saw all the little daily stresses and problems and dramas for what they were. Distractions. Life was not about who said that thing at work or whether my boss will still like me next year. It wasn’t about how much money I’d saved that month. Life was bigger than that. A lot bigger.
I spend most of the year working. Full time hours, narrowly focused, in a stressful environment. And while I sit at my desk I often find myself dreaming of that little corner of life that we call vacation. That thing that comes around once in a blue moon, where you get to go find a hidden gem somewhere to hang onto in your memory till the next vacation comes around.
But here, after several tough miles in the middle of nowhere (switchbacks put you in touch with your human self), I found myself glancing back at the little corner of life called a job. Sure, my work makes a difference, and jobs are important. But my job is just one tiny piece of this great big world that is mine for the taking. I can walk outside into a beautiful, real world whenever I choose. I can always live in that world I find on vacations. I just don’t always look.
My problems and stresses seemed about as small from the top of that cliff as the tiny trees that dotted the ground below. When I have to walk back down to the bottom and clock back in, those trees might look big again. But they’re not. And sometimes I have to remind myself of that. Sometimes I’ll need to step back and remember the freedom and perspective I found on the top of Observation Point, the freedom to live in a bigger world.