It was a cold night in Sedona, Arizona. An unexpected snowstorm had passed through the usually warm city, dumping several inches of snow in a short time. The electricity was off. The cabin I was staying in was freezing.
Great, I thought. I get to spend my last evening in Sedona fighting off hypothermia alone in the dark. I put on a heavy sweater, then wrapped myself in a blanket, trudged to a phone booth, and called a friend to complain.
“Change your perspective,” he said. “Pretend you’re four years old. Get your flashlight. Then make a tent in your bed out of all the pillows and blankets you can find. Enjoy the adventure.”
At first I balked, then I decided to try this idea. I made the tent. Bundled up. My complaints quickly turned to memories of what it was like to be a child, to play with life, to play with all the experiences life brings. Soon I fell asleep.
When I awoke in the morning, the heat was back on. The lights had returned. The snow had stopped falling. Capped in a frosty layer of white, the breathtaking city of rust-iron mesas looked like a wonderland. I had learned another lesson, practical and simple.
Change your perspective and enjoy the adventure. Let the child in you come out to play.