The Island and the Snow

One side spoke of solitude, of going it alone. From 22 miles away, it whispered that if the solo flight is what you’re after, it can be a lovely existence. It recalled a truth often found in songs and movies, in poems and quotes – a truth that says just because one is alone does not mean there is loneliness.

The other side told of how reaching great heights can be a difficult yet rewarding journey, as well as one where it is sometimes cold at the top. On one hand, you may find yourself closer to the sun, to the warmth, to your dream. On the other hand, the motives of others can be sobering; those dreamers who used to be familiar with warm gatherings and welcoming arms may now find themselves excluded, shut out, eliminated.

From one side of the 15th floor, the island was visible; on the other were snow-capped mountains. Large, crisply outlined cumulus clouds cast shadows on the ocean below. Mountains were marred by charcoal striations and peaks were covered in a blanket of white glowing in the afternoon sun.

The break I took for a hot cup of tea turned into an introspective collection of about 10 minutes, and one that made me feel like I was in the middle of a slight tug of war between the two. Both had pros. Both had cons. Both were appealing to some degree, and both were unappealing in other ways.

Fortunately we can often marry the best of both worlds, and come up with one that’s custom made for each of us. Today I am thankful that life is not an either/or, nor is it an all or nothing.

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