Our pilot mentioned that we reached a cruising altitude of over 30,000 feet. This prompted me to think of the expression, “30,000-foot view”. It’s a business cliche to be sure, but it’s chiefly an English unit one. 30,000 feet is about 9.1 kilometers. I have never heard anyone say, “Let’s take a 9.1-kilometer view of this business plan.” This is far as I want to go on the phrase a 30,000-foot view. I wanted to keep it at a high level, just cover the mountain tops.

I should have discovered this before. Pinterest is filled with images that purport my assertion about life. And, speaking of Pinterest. Have you been following the stock price of NYSE: PINS? Looks like something happened in early 2020.

But, it wasn’t Pinterest that gave me this revelation, it was this moment while hiking over the weekend. George and I masked up and headed to the trails. It was a balmy 15F. During the hike, I was fixated on the end of the hike. This train of thought was interrupted periodically by George’s hijinks. He grabbed handfuls of snow and tossed it around, he bounced between the edges of the trail, and he kept asking me questions about what he was seeing. He was having a blast while I was lost in thought. I was nowhere near being in the moment. When we got back to our propane heat table, George pealed off his wet gloves and held his hands close to the flame.

This is the small moment that cracked my callused mind. The look on George’s face as his hands warmed up made me think of all of the Pinterest images (which I loving refer to as adult memes). Life is made of small moments just like this. To George, this moment was all that mattered. I picked him to take him inside and he screamed like hell. He still doesn’t like to switch context. Although he may have taught me a life lesson, he’s still three after all.

I am impressed that Pinterest is not just still around, it’s thriving. We have been at home for a year and we are turning online for our comfort. I have been waiting for the pandemic to end, but I am going to try not to think of it that way anymore. I am going to dwell in the next small moment for as long as I can.