My Take Tuesday: Wide Open Spaces
Growing up in Castle Dale, Utah, life revolved around the small farm my family worked together. We raised sheep, cattle, and chickens, and our days moved to the rhythm of seasons, weather, and pasture rotations.
One of my favorite moments came whenever we opened the gate to a new field.
It didn’t matter whether the pasture was lush with fresh grass, churned into mud, or covered by a blanket of snow. The reaction was always the same. The animals would burst through the opening, running, leaping, and bucking with an enthusiasm that seemed almost excessive. To an outside observer, the new field might not look any different from the old one, but to them it represented something irresistible.
Space.
Freedom.
Possibility.
The older I get, the more I realize people are not much different.
Too often, I find myself living inside a self-imposed corral, surrounded by fences built from routine, caution, and predictability. I tell myself those fences are there for protection. They keep the dangers out. But if I’m honest, they mostly keep me in. And I suspect I’m not alone.
There is comfort in familiar pastures. There is safety in knowing every corner, every path, and every outcome. Yet comfort has a way of becoming confinement. The longer we stay inside the boundaries we’ve drawn, the easier it becomes to mistake security for fulfillment.
Growth rarely happens there.
Progress requires movement. It asks us to step into uncertainty, embrace inconvenience, and accept the possibility of failure. Every worthwhile adventure begins with a gate opening and a decision to walk through it.
Mark Twain is often credited with saying, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did.” Whether or not life’s great opportunities are waiting on the other side, none of us will ever know if we refuse to leave where we stand.
So today, I remind myself to unlatch the gate.
To step beyond the familiar fences.
To trust that even if the pasture ahead is not greener, the journey itself will be worth it.
Like those sheep in Castle Dale, I want to run toward possibility, not because I know exactly what waits beyond the hill, but because freedom has always belonged to those willing to explore.
With that, I cast off the bowlines and leave the safe harbor behind. The horizon is wide, the wind is fresh, and there is still more country left to see.
It is time to explore.
It is time to dream.
It is time to discover.
And that is my take.
N. Isaac Bott, DVM
