Walking around to the old air strip with the sun setting in the west, my heart raced in my chest and I nearly skipped my way down the dark path only lit with small red lights. Finally, I had returned to Cherry Springs State Park, a place I visited last with my best friend a year ago. If you haven't been yet, you need to go. It's worth the hike out there and the freezing temperatures you may have to endure. The whole experience will change your perspective, if you allow it.
First, let me set the scene:
I'm wearing three shirts beneath my winter coat. I'm also donning three pairs of pants (which says a lot for someone who so adamantly hates pants). I've easily gained ten pounds in clothing alone. Yet, my outfit isn't complete without my mittens and my knit hat. I carry out an outdoor mat and a lawn chair. I sit. I wait. My eyes adjust to the darkness.
One star, then ten, now a hundred. Next, I lose count. I've never seen so many stars.
Overhead, there's a dust cloud beginning to appear in the sky. It spans from the north to south horizons. That's the Milky Way. Right over my head, there it is, staring right back at me.
Then someone said, "Is something going to happen already?" and I let out an audible chuckle.
Something is happening, I thought. They just couldn't see it. It was everywhere. We were surrounded by it.
I began to feel sorry for this person who was waiting for something that was so clearly laid out in front of him, yet he couldn't see. And then of course, I began to think how much life was like that. We're often one step ahead, waiting for something to happen, and rarely do we focus on what's right here in front of us.
So, stop right now and count your blessings, each and every one of them.
And then stop to take a deep breath. Do you feel your lungs expanding with air as you inhale? Now consider the fact that you are just as remarkable and unique as the stars that hang above us every single night.
"I have no special talent.