I missed California today, and it made me think about goals and dreams and expectations and plans. It also made me think about change—more specifically, the ability for people to change.
Let's go back several years. Decades, actually.
I think I was 8 or 9 years old. My oldest sister Cami was going to college in Idaho, and my parents used it as an excuse to take a family vacation. We drove up through Kansas and Colorado, up to Wyoming and Yellowstone, and then slightly down and left to Boise. I remember one particular rest stop somewhere near Denver. Everyone was on their own for a few precious moments, and I spent my time walking around the parking lot. I was a little chilly, but I liked it. I also liked the feeling in the air and the tone of people's voices. Looking back, I think what I liked was the altitude.
Fast forward to a visit to Utah in 2007. I was in Provo for a cousin's wedding, and I remember thinking, "This feels like home." The West felt like home. The mountains felt like home.
So I spent the better part of the last decade feeling like I had to get to Utah. I needed to get to Utah. Everything pointed to Utah.
But I don't feel like that anymore. I don't mean that I wish I wasn't here in Utah; I mean that people change. Dreams change.
My life has taken so many unexpected turns in the last year . . . Or put more accurately, I've chosen
so many unexpected things in the last year, and because of that, I sense changes within myself. I'm not entirely the same person as I was in 2007, and I'm certainly not entirely the same person I was when I was 8 or 9. And I'm glad. I'm glad I can change and that people can change. What would life be like if we couldn't? It would be boring. And really depressing.
Thing I'm thankful for: Brant and Jordann