It took 67 years to get here
I completed my 67th year on this earth a few days ago. More and more, I think about how incredibly lucky I am to be where I am, and that anniversary seems to have ramped up those thoughts. That’s at least partly because I see so many people who never make it this far, chronologically speaking, but also because I see so many people who are unhappy.
To use a particularly apt saying, I prefer windshields to rear-view mirrors, and try hard not to spend much time thinking about what was (yes, that’s an odd thing for a historian to say!). Scanning my journals from many years ago recently brought back memories of some really awful times, and I thought about just tossing them. But keeping things in perspective is important, so the digital files of those journals are tucked away in case I ever need another reminder. And the really bad times are at least as important as the good times in the creation of who you become.
Although moving to the Yukon 27 years ago created some of the really bad times, it ultimately was the most significant decision I ever made. This is simply where I belong.
Now, my daily world revolves around my little family of 5 – Bella, Cathy, and Tucker…
…and Molly and I.
I’ve been blessed to share my world with some amazing dogs and cats, most recently Monty, who stayed a few weeks longer than expected to teach baby Tucker some important lessons.
The Yukon provides the incentive to stay active, and we’re out a lot. This was at Kluane Lake this past July.
I’m thankful for every day that I’m able to get into the wilderness. The tougher the access, the better, though most of these canyons at Muncho Lake this past August were too tough to even take Bella and Tucker.
When I come back from the wilderness, though, I do appreciate the comforts of our home, and our home on wheels. All in all, it’s taken me 67 years to reach a state of deep contentment. That’s the state that I hope you all reach at some point in your journey. Cheers 🙂
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