By Mike Johnson
Six to eight inches of snow arrived overnight on the mountain.
My loft office looks upon the pine-filled national forest.
No stranger sets foot back there, nor could they, during winter weather events.
But the mule deer just arrived.
Scraping snow with hooves, digging for breakfast.
They're uncovering yesterday’s alfalfa piles.
The forest connects to national parks, wilderness areas and other national forests.
This creates 12 million acres of public lands, spread over five states, the largest wild area in the lower 48.
This idyllic scene would be spectacular from any shelter, let alone this three-story log cabin.
We didn’t need a fire this morning, but the crackling wood amplifies the coziness.
As do the blue jeans and sleeping dog.
Jeans and a dog.
And a forest and a snowfall.
This embarrassment of riches is piled high with many layers.
No job. No schedule. No reason to leave.
Electricity. Internet. Coffee and an omelet.
TIME. QUIET. SOLITUDE.
Forgive me for being like that guy in Arizona who phones Wyoming in January to brag about his 80 degrees.
Because I paid my dues. I put in the decades of work required to get here.
And graciously accepted God’s blessings.
I remember dreaming of this place and this moment.
Before I even knew it existed.
Just faith and hope and navigation by intuition and dead reckoning.
So I send a postcard to you.
From your future.
Or any better future you might imagine.
There are many ways to live.
I suggest picking the way that is unique to you.
The effort is worth it.
The journey turns you into the larger person required to claim the dream.
If your desire burns hot enough.
One day you're 17 and the next you're 67.
The time is going to pass.
You might as well use it doing what needs to be done, to get where you want to go.
Your biggest dreams are just waiting for that biggest you.
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More:
When You Can't Bear Your Job, Read This
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