I can’t say why life goes the way it does. Why it is that when you finally get back on the saddle, the horse has a spaz attack and you going flying the other direction once again. What I do know is that a year ago I would have considered these setbacks catastrophic. I would have convinced myself there would be no coming back from them. That the horse was going to trample me on the ground until I had no choice but to stay there.
Besides concluding that this summer was quite possibly the best of my entire life (and a stark contrast to last year’s) I came to a number of realizations: I wasn’t as happy as I could be. In order to be happier, I needed to live closer to the mountains, I needed to follow my passion and work in a mental health related career, and I needed a vehicle (to get me to the mountains obviously). For any of this to happen, I had to make some serious changes.
We live in a world where we are constantly waiting. Waiting for the day our parents finally let us take the family car for a spin. Waiting until we graduate high school. Waiting for our 19th birthday to take that first (legal) sip of alcohol. Waiting for the next best thing.