Many years ago, when I was a young boy, I lived on the countryside in, what my family fondly refers to as, “the house on the hill.” The summer’s were hot and smelled of farm life and the winters were cold and consumed by mountains of snow. It is in those latter days that my story picks up.
It was one epic Christmas when I got that GT Snow Racer. I jumped for joy and squealed with excitement when I first saw it. I couldn’t wait to hit the hills and take that bad boy to the max! The snow was falling outside with abundance and the GT was begging for its inaugural run down the long and steep tree sprinkled hill that was just out the backdoor.
I put my snowsuit on faster than I had ever done before and eagerly prodded my family to do the same. It felt like it took a lifetime, but the moment finally arrived when I stood at the top of the hill ready to bomb down it. I set up the Snow Racer on the crest, sat down, took control of the cockpit, and, after a final warning from the safety marshals (my parents), I pushed off with vigorous passion.
Momentum started to do its job and I began to pick up speed. Within moments I was approaching terminal velocity with a solid 75% of the hill left to cover. “This is the life!” I loudly exclaimed to myself as I dodged trees and screamed with glee! It was everything I had wanted since I saw that thing at Canadian Tire a couple months prior. Now it was reality!
I once again began to shout with joy. “This is the best day ev …”
I opened my eyes to see four large silhouettes leaning over me. “Buddy, are you okay!?” someone asked. “What happened?” I replied dazed and confused. I then turned to my side and saw it — the wreckage. It turns out a 6-year-old boy is no match for a 60-year-old tree. I guess my cognitive functions were just too underdeveloped to safely navigate the tree-minefield that was my snowy sledding grounds.
Life recently has felt like this cherished memory. Things were going so well! I had pushed off the crest of an exciting hill, I built up sweet momentum, and I didn’t have a worry in the world. That is until I unexpectedly woke up in a world of apathy and hopelessness. It seems I unexpectedly hit a tree so hard it threw me so far out of the loop that I found myself on my back wondering what just happened and how I ended up there.
It’s a new year and many gain great momentum in their pursuits as they push off the crest of a fresh year, but the unexpected tree will plant itself in your path eventually. You can dodge and take corrective action when you see the tree in the distance, but when you’re caught off guard by the rogue obstruction it can be very easy to lose yourself.
I don’t remember hitting that tree when I was 6, but I climbed back up to the top and set off down that hill again. I have no clue where the tree came from at 21, but to take a lesson from the memory book, we all just need to remember to climb back to the top and set off on another attempt.