By Ethan Maurice | October 12, 2016
Every once in a while, when walking around the incredible lodge I live and work in, my eyes, a window, and one of the surrounding mountains perfectly line up. As I walk towards the window, the angle of my view through it rises, and my view of the mountain climbs higher and higher and higher... and HIGHER???
By the time the top of the mountain is in view, I'm shocked. I'm reminded of how majestic, how huge these surrounding peaks are. Every time this alignment of eyes, window, and mountain occurs, I stop and stare in amazement for a second.
The mountains surrounding Silver Gate, Montana are multiple thousands of feet higher than the town on the valley floor. They climb so high, so fast, and from so close that their presence just looms, towering over the valley. I was constantly moved by these mountains when I first arrived at the beginning of the summer, but over time, I got used to them. In their constant presence, I looked up less and less to appreciate their grandeur.
However, when eyes, window, and mountain align, I can't help but be reminded of what a stunningly beautiful place I live in. In the following days after this alignment, I find myself moved by the landscape again, almost as if I'd just arrived.
When we're around something for a while—a beautiful landscape, someone we love, anything we value—our appreciation of it tends to decline with time. It's not that we no longer find that landscape beautiful or love that person anymore, it's just that with proximity we tend to take things for granted. We lose sight of what's right in front of us, overlooking how beautiful, how precious, how wonderful that something truly is.
However, if we have another window to look through, a different perspective, or something else that helps us see the common things in our lives from an uncommon angle, we can renew our appreciation for them. Like a reset button, such reminders point out the things we've come to take for granted, just as those windows call my attention to the majesty of the mountains.
What do you value that you see often in your own life? What's your window?