At some point during the evening, I found myself wandering through various places, not sure at the time whether it was in a dream state or not because it was so real. These places were all special to me, places I had been to that brought about an epiphany or revelation of sorts when I had been there (back in my younger years).

First, I became aware of myself walking along the shore of a great lake in the late afternoon or early evening, just before dusk. All around me nature was at its finest: the birds were chirping, squirrels were scampering about looking for a last little morsel, the sun was throwing off its last bit of warmth before dissipating over the horizon. It was a perfect setting.

After about what seemed like a mile into my walk (enjoying all I was seeing and hearing), I began to get tired and needed to rest. Off to my right on the asphalt path I was on, some boulders sat side by side as the waves crashed against them. I climbed up one of them with the last bit of my strength. As I sat down, facing west, I caught the last vestiges of the sun shimmering over the water before it disappeared.

I thought to myself that resilience is not about remaining unaffected, but about gracefully adapting; that the setting sun represented life's natural transitions and the sounds of the birds were reminders of ongoing rhythmic patterns in life.

The next thing I knew I was on the top of a mountain, being out of breath from exerting myself on the climb upward. I was able to get to a scenic overlook where I took in a huge open vista that figuratively took my breath away. Only the sound of the wind and distant echoes broke the silence.

I soon found myself in deep contemplation and thought that the physical effort of climbing was like some of the challenges I had recently faced. I also felt a profound sense of humility and being small (compared to the vastness) while at the same time feeling like I had infinite potential.

Following that, I was sitting in a private compartment on a train rocking slightly side to side as it sped through changing landscapes. I felt like I was in between 'here' and 'there' on my way to who knows where, and getting there pretty quick.

Between the constant forward motion and the slight rocking, I got into a meditative state just thinking about random things.

I began to understand that life, like my journey on the train, is about movement and change; that my personal identity is not fixed, but continually evolving, and lastly that life is not about the destination, but the journey itself.

The last of these places stood out of all of them, either because it was the most recent or that I couldn't place where it was or why I was there.

I was walking through a long field filled with some type of tall plants on a path that for some reason took twists and turns (almost in a zigzag pattern), and eventually narrowing down to a single-file trail through a wooded area. After a while, I came to a wide clearing where a "shelter" of sorts was in the midst of it.

A concrete floor about thirty feet square had four pillars at it's edges leading to a pitched roof about twenty feet up. I sat at one of four picnic tables in the center (each one faced a different direction). In the center of the tables was a modest campfire, enough to warm you if a chilly breeze came along.

I was sitting facing west and saw the awesome cloud formations as they rolled in and were swept over the top of the shelter exiting east. A torrential downpour began, soon to be followed by lightning and thunder. The lightning displays were amazing and the loudness of the thunder was bordering on deafening. It was an experience like none other.

The storm moved fast, coming and going in about ten minutes. I was glad for the campfire because after the storm passed there was quite a chill in the air. The air smelled clean and pure, the freshest I had ever smelled the air before. Soon, the smell of the pine trees around the shelter took over. I felt such peace and so at ease I didn't want the experience to end, but of course it did.

The next thing I knew I was at home sitting in front of the fireplace in my living room all cozy in my wing chair staring at the fire, where I must have dozed off. Gazing up at the clock, I noticed that only about an hour had passed.

The feeling of peace followed me through the reverie. I also had a great feeling of contentment. As I was going through these things in my mind, I saw a flash of light through the window. Then another. 'Uh oh, storm's on the way,' I thought. That must have followed me too!