A few days ago I woke up with the familiar urge to go see the world. I planned to take pictures, but really what mattered was to get on the road…
Not getting something done, not going somewhere for business, not even be sure of how far I’d drive and how long it would take. As it turned out I came back late that night, after a full day of coastal beauty going up North on good ole Highway One… just enjoying the view.
It had been a long time since my last trip anywhere, and taking off early in the morning to pick up a dear friend, after throwing a few necessaries in the back of my car, felt like I was getting away with something. Like I was stealing some precious time for myself. As if everything I did had to be purposeful, productive, goal oriented, and I was playing hooky.
Luckily I know better by now and when my batteries are low, I let go of all my “I shoulds”, I heed my inner signals and I slow down to replenish. But then, I wonder, why do I wait to be in need of replenishing, instead of having regular time off ? Why do I keep plowing ahead, stubborn little beast that I am, regardless of time and of the preciousness of each day?
What if in my relentless quest for achievement I had it all wrong? What if the Life in us pulls and tugs and stirs so we get out our routine, out of our own way, to get the juice of it? What if we let it?
There was so much glee in me, just driving up the road with my window down, conversing lightly with my companion, stopping here and there to take photos, to have a late breakfast, to stretch our legs… lingering in Gualala, hurrying trough Anchor Bay, a day of whims. A day of freedom. We finally turned around in Manchester and decided to go back home gently, to have dinner where it felt right. The sun was getting low, painting everything with a rosy glow and we stopped in Jenner where the Russian River throws itself with complete abandon into the Pacific, where birds and seals and salmon live, between fresh and salty, between flow and waves, an endless liquid kiss of almost aching beauty.
Dinner was scrumptious and the drive home serene. I felt at peace, in order, aligned. Coming home was as happy as leaving it a dozen hours earlier. The world is out there, beautiful as always, waiting for me to go and be enchanted by its many wonders. Since time is what we make of it, there can be perfect balance somewhere between busyness and contemplation, between getting it all done and gliding aimlessly on the wings of whimsy…
I love this life of mine.
More later…
