It was a glorious New Year's Day in New England. 55 degrees, a bit windy, and the sun was bright. We had a family meeting, and the kids grudgingly agreed we could go to the beach if: 1) we brought the dog; 2) we ate fried seafood for lunch; and 3) we stopped at a bookstore on the way home. Deal!
We drove an hour to the beach and rushed from the car. As we crested the dunes, it looked like fog had blown in. Only it wasn't fog, but high wind propelling sand, dancing over the beach in ripples. The beach transformed into a Saharan sandstorm.
When we ran, the wind pushed us faster and we roared laughing. Our family formed a protective circle around our 17-pound dog, shielding him from pelting sand. Our hair blew across our faces and sand crunched in our mouths. We stayed only 15 minutes. Instead of regret for the short visit and long drive, or irritation about sand filling my shoes, I felt elation. In that short moment, I recognized: our family can stand together against the wind or anything else to protect one another, nature's power is magnificent— humbling, really—
and my perspective has the ability to transform gritty sand into a glorious memory.
What is possible if you claim the power of perspective this New Year?