J Richard Knaggs liked this
Three years ago, we decided to move to Colorado.
There was a rumor that there might be a baby in our son's future. That was pretty much all my wife needed to hear. I remember hearing, “Don't let the door hit you in the back end. We're moving.”
We have one child. We wanted to be part of his life, his family's life, and whatever came next. So we packed up our San Diego life and headed toward Colorado.
We left on a Thursday. Friday morning, driving through Utah, we blew a tire and went off the road. The car was totaled.
My wife suffered a T12 burst fracture and needed spinal surgery. I was life-flighted with head injuries and chest pain.
We hadn't even made it to Colorado yet.
Talk about a detour and a lousy welcome.
During those hospital days, we talked about the life we were still going to build. As we got stronger, we were going to get out and live the Colorado life we'd moved there for.
So we declared every Wednesday 'Explore Colorado Day'. (E.C.D)
Our first adventures weren't exactly Instagram-worthy. Could we walk to the corner and back? Then a short drive, a gentle walk, a trail.
Eventually…a hike.
Three years later, we've made four trips to Rocky Mountain National Park and explored places we might never have discovered otherwise. We've seen elk, moose, foxes, lakes, waterfalls, and plenty of scenery that stops us in our tracks.
Ozzi, our faithful canine companion, has explored a considerable amount of Colorado territory too. He's even peed on a tree or three.
We've also developed a few guidelines. Not rules. Guidelines. 😎
1. Ya gotta hug a tree. 2. If there's water, put a hand or foot in it. 3. Every so often, stop, breathe, and look around. Notice. Be still.
'Get your head out of the trail.'
4. And if lunch is involved, find a diner or café. Period.
Explore Colorado Day doesn't always mean hiking. We've explored the U.S. Mint, the Colorado Capitol, museums, neighborhoods, small towns, and places we'd simply driven past.
Along the way, we figured something out:
The point isn't how far we go. The point is that we go. And we're together.
A mantra came out of our accident: “What if the worst thing that ever happened to us turns out to be one of the best things that ever happened to us?”
The accident wasn't a good thing. But it changed how we look at time.
It reminded us that “someday” isn't much of a plan.
So we put living on the calendar.
We get outside. Hug a tree or three. Put our feet in the water. Find the little café. Stop and look around.
And we keep adding experiences to our Museum of Memories.
You don't need Colorado or a mountain. You don't even need an entire day.
Maybe there's something worth declaring — a morning, an afternoon, one day a month. Some protected time to be together and notice your life while you're living it.
What would your Explore Day look like?