One Bold “Yes”
It was a dry, fall evening. Summer had abruptly ended with a chapter I didn’t want to read out loud, and I was content with silently turning the page. I remember wondering what my life would look like if every plan had gone my way—would I even be happy?
I was sharing my heart with my best friend who had had an equally heavy-hearted summer. Then all of a sudden, she suggested that we go to the mountains.
“Let’s just go,” her voice echoed. Excited and in the moment, I hastily agreed.
We made a few rickety plans, and then I hopped on a plane, went back to my one-bedroom apartment and full-time job, and I didn’t think about it.
It’s not that I didn’t consider myself very adventurous; I was realistic. And honestly, I was very comfortable in my comfort zone and didn’t like the idea of anything shattering it once again.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that the mountains would occupy my thoughts again. My friend had called me with a great deal on a cabin in Colorado, but we needed to put down a deposit to secure the deal. I asked her for some time, and then asked myself, “Could I really do this right now?”
Yes. I let myself answer with a bold yes.
Maybe it’s not a big deal. Many of my Midwest friends learned to ski in Breckenridge when they were young. But for this homegrown Charleston girl, Colorado was a different world.
Though we stayed in Breckenridge, we decided to spend some time in Aspen since we both had never been. We parked her truck at the base of Aspen Mountain, followed a sweet golden retriever through woods of untouched snow, and ended up at a cabin that rented out snowmobiles.
Equipped with heated handgrips, we drove a snowmobile up the mountain — passing several moose — until we reached our destination.
Can you think of a moment when something simply clicked? A moment that shifted your perspective in the best way?
That’s what it felt like to see Maroon Bells for the first time. In my comfort zone, I had lost track of the greater picture and the greater story that was yet to be told. Right there, I was reminded of the magnitude of my smallness and that there are far better things ahead than any we leave behind.
Almost two years later, I still think about that trip with great appreciation. No, my life does not look like what I thought it would two years ago. Yes, I keep my heart open to more adventures—both big and small. And no, I’m not afraid to let myself answer with a bold yes.