What if the 'in-between' isn't just a place to find beauty, but the forge where our resilience is hammered into form? Destinations can be illusions, mirages shimmering on the horizon. It's the weathering – the detours, the unexpected storms encountered while seeking them – that reveals who we truly are, that crafts the unwavering compass within. How might your definition of success shift if it mirrored the strength gleaned from those struggles, rather than the achievement of the 'summit' itself?