Mountains

Sometimes I fantasize about moving away with my family to a cabin in the mountains of Montana.  I drift off and dream about unplugging my son from the daily pressures of society and artificial milestones and expectations that we all place on him.  I ponder how nice it would be to just live on a mountain surrounded by the people who matter most to me and just let my kids grow up with no preconceived or forced notions about… growing up.

I’ve actually done the math in my head.  I’ve actually perused real estate sites in Montana.  It’s just not possible right now.  It might not ever be possible.

But my fantasy still serves a powerful purpose:  When I close my eyes and dream about my wife and me watching our kids play on that mountain, all of a sudden… like magic… all of the garbage is stripped away.  In an instant I am reminded of what really matters, what is just noise and what I truly need to be happy.  When it comes down to it, all I need around me is my family… exactly the way they are.  And guess what… I already have that.  The trick is staying grounded and stopping to smell the mountain air more often.