If you stand on the peak of the tallest hill on a Sunday evening, you can almost hear the week exhaling. It’s a low, vibrating sound—the collective sigh of millions of people letting go of their burdens. David stood there, feeling the wind pull at his jacket. He looked back at the valley where his office sat, a tiny speck of lights. He realized that the week wasn't something that happened to him; it was something he had walked through. Sunday was the summit. He had reached the top, and now he could see the descent into the next valley. It wasn't a repeat; it was a new path, with new stones to trip over and new vistas to find.