Surviving is important, thriving is elegant – Maya Angelou

Friends often ask me, Brenda what are you up to now? What new and exciting thing do you have going on? What mountains are you about to climb or exotic trips are you going on?

I remember not too long ago being satisfied with my life. I had a good job, a sweet husband and a nice house. I really thought that this was all I should want in my life. Somewhere along the line, I started to want more. To do more, to be more, to see, smell, taste and feel more.

This happened to me all at once, not gradually. Looking out of my office window, I see that the clouds have created a foggy nest that hovers over the evergreen trees. I know that there is more out there.

Trekking in Nepal in 2014, hot and chest heavy, I was often amazed at the distance we covered. We would be hiking and see our destination many miles away. What always appeared as a tiny speck in the hills would eventually come into view only to disappear again as we either went around a bend or up a steep hill. When I would get discouraged, I would think about home and the evergreens. This would take my mind off of the reality of how far we were from the next village, only to look up after day dreaming to find that we would be there.

Sometimes a bustling village would be waiting, sometimes it would be as if only the livestock were available to greet us. Either way, there was always some hot milk tea waiting. Looking on my map it was unthinkable that I had traveled the distance by foot, but I had.

Now as I look at the evergreens, I know that the rest of the world is out there. There is plenty more for my eyes to see. I am no longer trying to survive, day by day. I am no longer worried whether or not we have enough.

Now, arriving at my destination, feeling the dew from the low hanging clouds on my face, I run from car to building. I know that I am well cared for. The rain is my friend. I realize that I’ve made it to where I was trying to get to. Hot tea awaits me inside the building along with my community of loving friends and family. Where will I go next?

Somewhere past those trees. Somewhere out there.