I sat atop a mountain today that allowed me a vista of the Berkshires and the Catskills that I never believed existed. Words pauper the experience, so you’ll have to see it for yourself: take Lift 3 at the Catamount ski resort and you’ll know what I mean. The most amazing part was seeing our little farmhouse and barn, straight into our bedroom window, thousands of feet up and a couple of miles away. It allows a man the perspective to take stock of his position. It also allows a man the ability to ski his first “black diamond” run ever, which I did without wiping out once (although Catamount’s definition of a black diamond might be stretching it a bit).
Part of “taking stock” means telling myself, the blog, or whomever I am writing to (my future self? Peter in Canada? my mom? that guy in Minnesota who called me a “self-involved fuck” in my own diary?) what is going on in the bigger picture.