Once upon a time, in the middle of the afternoon, in the middle of summer, a tremendous storm rumbled over these mountains, shrouding the valley in darkness, temperatures dropped at least 20 degrees as the freezy rain and hail shot like tiny cannons from the sky. Blue Eyes and I were driving through Grand Teton National Park in Wyoming, enjoying the views and trying to decide what hike to do next. As the wet road turned into a slippery, steely ribbon I started to get nervous, we finally found a place to park and watch as the thundering clouds stormed east followed by a thick cape of streaming gray rain.
In less than 30 minutes the storm had passed–summer storms in the mountainous West are ferocious, but usually short lived. Thirty minutes. I can wait out anything for thirty minutes. Sometimes, you need to take each day thirty minutes at a time. Sometimes that’s all you can manage. And sometimes you’ve become so used to living thirty minutes at a time that you forget how to live bigger than that. I can’t stop thinking about my breakthrough in yesterday’s post. Live bigger. Live broader. Pick a destination and work towards it. My thoughts are still kind of jumbly on the specifics, but I already feel like the realization has brought me more clarity than I’ve had in a long time. I’m still in the middle of the storm but I’m finally off the slippery road that has been leading me to nowhere.