As I was looking over pictures taken on our recent travels, I was struck by how many times we found ourselves way up high looking down. Hiking on trails that took us well above the forest floor, riding on a train through narrow mountain passes, biking along a path that traveled over old, abandoned train trestles, peering down from the lip of a dam that towers 550 feet above bedrock, and standing on a “see through” bridge that spanned a rocky river hundreds of feet below.






I know a few people who wouldn’t find these views very enjoyable. Some would muster their courage and go anyway, although trying to avoid a direct line of sight to what was below. Others would probably deny themselves the experience altogether, unable to overcome their fear of heights.
I realize that I have no idea what these fears feel like. I do know that they are not ones that people can just “get over.” They are real and they can be terrifying. And they can be frustrating. And they can be limiting.
For me, getting high is part of the fun, and I am so grateful that I’m able to embrace these experiences and enjoy the incredible views.
I love to travel, and we’ve been doing quite a bit of it this year. We have just arrived home from our latest adventure and, I must admit, I am relieved. No matter how much fun we have, interesting places we explore, or new experiences we have, walking in our front door after a long trip feels like… well… coming home.














