This is where my mind goes wandering these days. The roads between Bandon, and Portland, Oregon.
I am in the middle of a challenging week, with another full week coming up. It's time I am passing by hunkering down, and doing my best to keep everything safe, moving forward, and as well tended as possible. Many things are bound to slip, and I will, no doubt, lose some hair...
hopefully only gray ones.
As I rise to the occasion, driving, driving, care taking, and farm(s) wrangling, my mind wanders to what I expect will be a really marvelous adventure... a road trip from Southern California to Southern Oregon. We are going to see Mom and Dad, and Grandma Eunice, and Aunt Becky, and hopefully blackberries, and definitely redwoods, campfires, elk, and bridges. I have been pouring over maps, {paper and digital}. I've reserved campsites, counted miles, dreamt of coastlines, and the smell of pines. There are college visits along the way, and some small dread of carsickness, or fatigue, but no... no, this is not discouraging. Early on, when it's all planning and anticipation every road block and inconvenience is easy to dismiss. Road trips are not for the weak, for the unimaginative sorts. I feel a surge of confidence and determination, a giddy buzz of energy when I think of the trees, wildflowers, farm stands, and discoveries that await us, the dear, familiar faces at the end of the drive.
It's still some time before we can enjoy our coast drive, our van-ful of adventuring , and like I say, right now there is a lot to be done. Daunting work, and such... so when I feel the strain, I let my thoughts begin the trip, the trip to Oregon... I recall the familiar places, the coolness of a fern grove, the heights of old redwoods, and bluffs. I take notes on places recommended by friends...
stop at the seed store in Petaluma, visit Half Moon Bay. And when I feel particularly eager and daring, I imagine going further, going to Portland. I think about one more day of driving, or two? I wonder if we'll have the time, or the energy. Sometimes, on a road trip, it can feel easier to keep moving away from home, a few miles more, one more sight, one more town. Easier than turning around and driving all those miles back.
Back is far, those miles feel longer, slower, less carefree, and it brings the end of the adventure.
Back means the long hours on the road signify returning to
normal, and routine. I do love our normal, our routines, but fresh from new adventures, and a bit worn, too, one begins to wish that home were closer, and that back-to-school were further away, that we can keep some of that road trip newness with us, a bit longer.
I love the beginning. The maps, and the speculation. I wonder,
which three places we should not miss if we dare to drive 289 miles beyond our destination? Would we find a place to sleep? Is there a shop, or a park, or hike we should enjoy? Will we exhaust ourselves, trying to make too much, with too little time? Will we revel in our daring and celebrate the joy of fulfilling a wish?
Going to Portland {actually living there, for each season} is a wish I make, often. The bit I toy with, and puzzle over, is whether my wish can come true
this time, or if I should wait. After all, just now, I am deep in the throes of regret and self recrimination for regularly complicating my life with adding
more. More to do, more to care for, more to accomplish, more to regret. It's not always regrettable, of course, but just now... I have too much, and since there is no remedy, but to move forward, I urge myself:
Dear Self, please do exercise more prudence, and do not complicate your life, do not add more, when there is already enough. The trick, I suppose, is to choose wisely, only adding when and what the heart really desires.
Oh, yes. I see the time, and now I must leave these musings and wanderings... and get back to the
real tasks at hand.
{But, please... if you have a moment, do share your thoughts on wandering, on Portland, even on the complications of adding too much!}