A few mornings back, I sat down on my bed, surrounded by clothes to be put away and a backpack leaning against the wall. That backpack needed packed; there were plates in the sink that needed to washed. The dogs were scrambling around, reminding me that breakfast time was 45 minutes ago. And, worst of all, there were bags piled up in the office.
I had just finished up three days of working 10 hour days. Today should by all accounts be another 10 hour day.
Jacob and I were gifted a weekend away by some of our dearest friends, in the mountains, a time to relax, recharge, and get away. A trip I desperately needed and our friends knew it more than I did. All I could think about was the work in the other room. I sat there on my bed, staring off into the void, thinking about how I could convince Jacob to go without me. My eyes began to focus on my water bottle sitting on the window sill, a big blue Hydroflask covered in stickers.
I've always been a believer is listening to your friends when they give you advice. So many times, I can't see past what's right in front of my face, and it takes a good friend to help me understand the bigger picture around me. Slow Down. It's just a sticker on a water bottle, and Chris has no idea he was mentoring me on my self employed journey when sending it my way, but hey, it's funny how life works. I finished packing up my stuff and packed away nerves, and Jacob and I got the hell out of town.
Wandering around a trout stream with no one else in sight can do wonders. Catching fish on dry flies and wading about in chacos is good for the body and better for the soul. Sitting on a riverbank, watching a dog play unapologetically can remind you of who you should strive to be. And dang, I had forgotten how fun wild brown trout are.
For two whole days, I slowed down. I thought nothing of the news or COVID or rod bags; well, maybe a little of rod bags. I returned renewed and with a new perspective. All thanks to the kindness of friends.
