This morning, for the first time in a week, the western mountains were visible again. The wildfire smoke had finally cleared overnight. As I stood looking across the lake, it struck me that the mountains hadn't disappeared. Only my view of them had. Life often feels the same. There are seasons when we can't see what lies ahead. We wonder what comes next. We search for answers, convinced that clarity has somehow left us. But perhaps clarity doesn't disappear. Perhaps, like the mountains, it has been there all along, quietly waiting for the smoke to clear. Today, I invite you to sit with this question: What in your life has never disappeared, but has simply become hidden from view? As you reflect on this, what word, image, memory, or experience comes to mind?