While southbound to Cincinnati on I-71 a couple of years ago, Zach and I laughed over a few favorite memories from an Arizona trip the previous spring. His bold assurance as we clambered up and down the sides of mountains and canyons had given height-wary me additional amounts of courage and strength. During our car ride, he admitted to having experienced a couple of less than absolutely confident times himself.
Not surprisingly, his moments of unease coincided with a few of my own white knuckle memories: A couple of “don’t look down” spots on the side of Camelback Mountain (we both looked!) and on the side of an almost bald outcropping on Bear Mountain where sudden hail and wind gusts made hugging a scrubby bush more about survival than about any warm environmental feelings.
Anytime you get to push a shoulder into your own boundary and expand the edge line out a little further, you facilitate your own growth. When you can do that in the company of someone you care about, you have a witness with whom to frame and commemorate the change.
“What a great trip!” Not sure which one of us said it first. But either one of us could have stated the obvious.5 Comments