I followed the young man who was buying my truck up the hills east of
“You have a great view.”
“Yes, but no mountains.” I said.
Later that afternoon, son Scott, who had given me tips on the sale along the way, asked me: “So how do you feel now about the selling experience? Would you do it again with more ease?”
I haven’t ever had a dream of victory that I can recall, but I did on the night I handed the truck keys to that young man---
“It’s a pleasure to hand these to you,” I said.
Though I have never down hill skied, I dreamed I was in the snow smothered mountains. I skied/flew down the paths and glaciers with the expertise of an Olympics star. With narrow misses down curving channels of snow, I was exhilarated by the whole thrilling journey. I came to a swishing stop. I looked over the front of my skis to see a 2000 foot drop. I had known without thinking to end my decent with my ski tips at the edge of the snow cliff. Chuckling with pleasure, I admired the view.
Waking, I remembered rushing to my window to watch my old truck drive off down my hill and onto the road and thought,
“I can see the mountains from my neighborhood; all I have to do is climb to the top of my hill.”