Only Seeing the Rocks

I had a huge wake-up moment last week.
I left my husband and kids Wednesday night and left for a slow, 4 mile run. I got to my 2 mile mark, and as I turned around to run back, I, for some reason, decided to stop and walk. I took off my headphones that were blaring Taylor Swift's "Speak Now" album, and for once, noticed how quiet everything was. (*que cheesy music*) I could hear rustling of trees, and water rushing down a canal, and the sound of a calming, easy breeze. I looked all around me. I could see the magnificent Grand Teton Mountains, rolling brown foothills, and never-ending fields of newly growing alfalfa, hay, and barley. The landscape was broken up by small, antique farm houses complete with clothes lines and tulips. The sun was setting, there were a few white clouds above me, and the sky was blue. It was almost too perfect, how serene it was.

The weird thing about this cheesy, obvious observation was that I run on that road 4 times a week. It shouldn't have been anything new to me. I guess I'm always looking for cars ahead, or for rocks, or for intimidating, scary canines. It wasn't until last week that I realized there was an infinite amount of acreage of pure, simple beauty surrounding me. I've been blinded by the obstacles of running, and have been missing out on everything else breathtaking.

So it is with my life. I've become obsessed with everything that's wrong. I need to start looking around at everything that's perfectly beautiful and right.