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Week 50: Finding Gratitude at a Magic Show in the Smoky Mountains

Philosophical Dad Stuff

My family and I spent last week at a cabin in the Smoky Mountains with my mother and brother. It was a smashing success of a week as we had plenty of time with the kids, did lots of fun things, and barely opened the work laptop.

We went to a pirate dinner, the aquarium, a magic show, Dolly Parton’s Stampede, putt-putt golf, magician training, arcade games, saw bears, watched the Olympics, swam in the pool and hot tub, and never skipped dessert.

We got up early, stayed up late, and fell into bed exhausted every night.

I ran in the hills every day. Without headphones or music as I begin mental training in the final stretch before the 100k next month (oh shit).

I often thought of my father during those runs up and down the mountain. I thought of how he’d think my spirit quest is crazy, but he’d secretly be jealous it wasn’t him.

These thoughts led me to gratitude.

I felt grateful to be alive. Grateful to have time with my mother and brother. Grateful that my body can still run. Grateful to be in shape. Grateful to be supported by family and friends. Grateful to feel inspired enough to chase crazy dreams.

My kids laughed, played, smiled and clapped throughout the week.

And in the end, it was an aging magician in Pigeon Forge that planted the seed which would become my mantra of gratitude for the week.

Near the end of his show, he came down the audience level right before he made his assistant disappear for the grand finale.

He talked about how we were the lucky ones. After all, we were at a magic show.

Which probably meant the basics were all covered. Food is in the fridge, the bills are paid. There was enough left over for tickets to a magic show.

Good vacations are meant to temporarily take us from reality, much like a magic show. And if we’re lucky, watching the illusions makes us appreciate our reality just a little bit more.

When the time came for that sad return trip home, I drove in ponderous silence.

I was lost in reverie; from whence I’d been, where I am, and where I’m heading. In the past, it usually seemed like trips away from the day-to-day fill me with more questions than answers.

Not this time.

I realized it’s because I’ve probably never been clearer in my life about my intentions and my convictions.

I realized there were so many moments of pure contentment that soothed my soul over the week.

And I was reminded of just how good I’ve got it.

All the anxiety, all the angst, all the trepidation about the upcoming physical trials seemingly evaporated.

Gratitude is the antidote to fear.

“Greatness is not in where we stand but in what direction we are moving. We must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it—but sail we must and not drift, nor lie at anchor.” -Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

Live triumphantly. See you next week.