One day, I was driving my Park Ranger truck back to my park house at the end of the day. It was the last day of work after a ten-day stretch. It was 5 PM, and I had the next four days off because by Wednesday I’d already logged 40 hours—and, best of all, I wouldn’t be on call.
When I was a Park Ranger, those days felt like the last day of school before summer break.
I was already mentally fast-forwarding to the freedom ahead—parking the truck, signing off the radio, grabbing what I needed. All the little things that would deliver me to rest and time to work on personal projects. And then it struck me: each step needed to happen in a specific order.
For example, I couldn’t park my truck while still driving the mile or so to my house. That would be…preposterous. First, I had to get to the house. Then I could park.
I’m not sure I’m explaining this perfectly, but in that moment, it made me laugh. I realized how often I expect things in my life to happen instantly, even though I know—logically—that some things take time. There’s a natural progression, and I don’t have to struggle through it. I can just enjoy “the drive home,” knowing the outcome is inevitable.
That idea has been sitting with me this week as I move through the steps of writing my books and creating the other things I feel nudged to bring into the world.
Some days, I want to rush. I get frustrated wondering why things aren’t happening faster. But then I remember:
- I can’t park the truck until I get to the house.
- I can’t go inside until I park.
- And I can’t take off the uniform until I’m inside the house. (Okay, technically I could…but personally, I wouldn’t!)
Steps, steps, steps.
That’s where I’m at this week. I’m not in the reward phase of finishing a project, but I’m on the way. I’m moving in the right direction.
And the achievement? It’s inevitable.