It was a perfect winter day at the beach. The sky was as blue as the water; the air was crisp and inviting. The birds were happily chirping; the sun brightly shining. Looking out my window, I couldn’t wait to take my iPod and go down for an exhilarating walk.

Reaching the beach, I soon saw that the sand dunes were huge. Standing upright, they almost reached my shoulders. I was not sure how to navigate my way down to the flat sand. Using a little ingenuity, I sat on my butt and slid down the sandy slope. The effort was worthwhile, the beach was just spectacular. Turning my music on and singing out loud, I had the potential for a glorious walk.

Only 5 minutes into the journey, an unwelcome thought intruded into my blissful peace, “How was I going to climb back up over the almost 5 foot sand dune?” The further I walked, the greater my angst. “How stupid that I didn’t bring my phone,” I chastised myself. “What if I get stuck out here?” I obsessed. “How long will it take until someone sees me?" I continued ruminating as the panic escalated. Instead of staying focused on the magnificent moment, I was completely stuck, fretting over my return. I allowed the possible obstacle of climbing back over the dune ruin the immediate experience.

When it was time to return, I simply put a foot in the sand and then my hands. Basically I crawled up the dune in about 2 minutes.

How many other moments have I missed while hypothesizing over potential future obstacles? What a waste.

How have your “obstacles” interfered with your present? laura@realwomenwin.com