Where the Dreams Remain

At the foot of Mt. Rainier lies Ohanapecosh Campground. I’ve gone there since I was a child, and it is there, among the old growth trees and along the glacial river, that I return whenever I need to find myself.

Each of us are tested and transformed by the world in ways we never expect. Whatever our field of endeavor, regardless of how successful or not we are, each of us struggles to achieve in our own way. We make choices, often difficult, between who we want to be and we must be.

If we’re very lucky those are the same. Often they are not.

And as we grow older and the challenges become more difficult, complicated, and less clear, the dreams we had when we were young often fade. They lie beneath the clutter of a busy life. Pushed beneath the bed of daily obligations. All but forgotten.

And the years pass.

Yet, if we’re very lucky we can remember back. We can retrace our steps and find the place where those dreams were foremost in our minds. When we thought of the future as a blank page yet to be filled with the stories of our life. A place that refills our well.

This place is mine.

Here I see myself clearly in the fading light of the canyon. I feel the strength of my youth as I climb fallen logs. I hear my whispered hopes echoing back from the rippling water. I recognize my reflection again. And by the flickering light of a campfire I look up through the trees at a night’s sky that hasn’t changed. I remember.

Because a part of me is always here, just as a part of this place is always with me.

And for that I am blessed. I hope you have such a place.