Anyone would assume that leaving the 9 to 5 for 10 months is a dream come true. No more waking up early every morning to fight the nations worst traffic (Seattle). No more dealing with difficult customers and fighting the stresses living in the big city. An escape into the most beautiful land our country has to offer. Over the last 12 days, we have been amazed at the wonders of some of natures phenomenons right in our own back yard of the Pacific Northwest. In Glacier National Park, we crossed over the Continental Divide (I didn’t even know we had a Continental Divide) twice on the same road as we shared the mountain with big horned sheep. In Craters of the Moon, we walked through lava caves millions of years old (so they say). In Yellowstone, we were overwhelmed with hot springs, geysers, steam vents, boiling mud, and herds of Bison that walked 5 feet from our motor home. The Grand Teton was home to majestic craggy mountains that stretched high into the sky. (Pictures to come in next post.)
So with all this awe, wonder and beauty, how did I (Josh) find myself laying alone in my bed a few days ago, crying to myself? Not the type of crying you feel when you had a bad day or when your feelings get hurt a little. No, the crying that comes from deep within your being. A cry that is more like a whaling. Deep sobs that sound so shameful I was embarrassed even when my wife heard me cry. Tears that come from a place you never hope to visit, but in life, is necessary to visit as seasons change.
As I have been reflecting on my tears I have realized that adjusting to changes is a type of mourning. Mourning for the loss of what I once had, what I have needed to give up in order to accept the season of life I now walk in. Neither the tears nor the mourning are bad. They are necessary. Life is suddenly so much different. It is good. But my nature also requires me to go through a process of grieving as I let go of the old and take hold of the new. It is difficult and uncomfortable but I know it is worth it. And I would be a fool to think my grieving is over after just one session. I’m sure I will experience other episodes of great loss and pain. How else would I feel when I miss all the great people who are back at home?
For those who have noticed, this will be the first blog in 12 days. Not because we forgot about all our friends and family back home, but because where we have just been, we have had no internet or cell service (a nightmare for some, I am sure). More adjustment to change.