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Mountains and Metaphors


Yesterday Patti and I got in the car, put the address in the GPS and headed to West Virginia so she could visit a friend for a while. Rather than the six hour trip I thought the GPS would take us, we had a nine hour scenic route through the Appalachians of North Carolina, Virginia, and West Virginia. I am not sure how we ended up on a different route, nor does it matter. What I know is that because of not changing the settings on Sean’s GPS, a trip through the mountains reminded me of a recent letter from Sean and brought me enlightenment. (From here on out you will see Sean’s words in italics. I had every intention of asking his permission before publishing, but I have no idea when I will speak with him again and it is time for me to do some processing. I am pretty sure he would understand.) A couple of weeks ago, Tony wrote a letter to Sean telling him the news about my job, or lack thereof.
It seems like another test or great adventure. There are lots of ways to take the news. I believe everyone has a road in life with a predefined destination. How we get there is variable by person.
It is a joke in my family that I have no sense of direction. None. For me to get somewhere, it often takes directions, a GPS, and turning around. My trip to West Virginia was true to me. I had no clue if I was on or off track. I was just enjoying what was brought my way. Last night I realized I am living my life in the same way.
Some people’s roads are built upon sand. They move, sink, and crumble under pressure. Others are built upon great valleys with dark rich earth. Those roads are smooth, but their views are far and wide between. Some roads are built on bedrock, tough foundations, steep hills, cold and mean. Well I could go on. But I think you get the picture. I would consider the most rewarding roads to be built on the sides of mountains.
I knew he was telling us our lives are on the sides of mountains. As we drove through the mountains, beauty surrounded us. I thought back to when we were in Colorado and drove through the mountains there. The Rockies are huge and majestic in comparison. They are so tall trees stop growing the closer you get to the top. The Appalachians could be thought of as hills when putting the two mountain chains side by side. For me, there was a feeling of connectedness and belonging in these small hills. The feeling of home maybe? After all, they are in the east and I have learned, I am and east coast kind of gal. As we drove up and down the mountains, I enjoyed conversation with my youngest daughter. (There is something magical about being trapped in a car with a child for an extended period of time. Not only do some of the best conversations happen, fun is had when the music is turned up and the dancing begins.)
How ironic that this mountain looks like a boob.
Mountains go up and down, and round and round. They have steep places and low stretches. They move through the highest peaks and some low valleys. Sometimes they are rock, other times earth. But none of that matters. Your views are the highest. Your air is the crispest. Your trees are the greenest. And your prize is the greatest. I have no job for the fall. I might have breast cancer. I have no income coming in this summer. These are all small obstacles in my way. I could allow myself to get lost in the despair of it all or I could take the time to stop, breathe the air, and notice the beauty around me before continuing on my way.
The beauty of family.  The people in my life who put up with me and my craziness. The ones who join me without question on whatever adventure is the next part of our journey. Rather than be upset about the possibility of moving, my husband and children are taking it in stride, ready to do whatever is necessary. (We hope to stay here.) The beauty of friendships. This last year I met many wonderful parents of students. Yet, I have chosen not  to start a friendship so as not to cross the boundaries as a teacher. Now that I no longer teach in the community, our friendships can begin. I see the beauty of the little things in all that life has to offer through old friends, new adventures and opportunities, music, and the kindness of strangers.
I know I can get to where I am going – wherever that is. When I get there, I will know and it is only then that the greatest prize will be mine - the life I lived to reach my destination.
 
Well there are other ways to look at it, but I think my way is best so don’t worry about the others.
Driving back on the highways, I thought about the tough trails ahead. I thought about who my children who get it. Get me. Traffic stopped for an hour giving me the chance to check facebook for the first time all day. While sitting in the rain late at night waiting for an accident to be cleaned up, I had the opportunity to remind a friend of the beauty of the hard times. In reality, reminding myself. I agree with my son. His way is the best way to look at it. Thank you, Sean, for reminding me of the beauty of the mountain.

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