Not All Who Wander Are Lost
In 2003 I left my job in Yosemite National Park (Wawona, California) to live with my grandmother in Bella Vista, Arkansas, and become a full-time writer. But instead of heading east, straight to her place, I started out going west.
I put my feet in the Pacific Ocean and got sunburned on the beach. I listened to Paul Theroux talk about his latest book, Dark Star Safari, at the Capitola Book Cafe. I bought local honey and oranges at the Santa Cruz farmer's market. I spent an afternoon in Shakespeare's Garden at Golden Gate Park. I saw protests and arrests in Berkeley -- President Bush having just declared war on Iraq. I slept at a fire station in Napa and ate Olallieberry Pie in Pescadero.
I didn't have a cell phone at the time, so I called my grandmother from a pay phone along the way. I told her about my latest adventures. "Are you lost?" she asked, thinking I should be halfway to Arkansas by now.
Some had the same reaction when Randy and I moved out of our California home last week and, instead of heading straight south to Mexico, went north to Portland, Oregon.
We were anything but lost, however. We were intentionally giving ourselves permission to take a few days to rest, process, and reset. We needed to do it for ourselves. We needed to do it so that we can be our best for the children when we arrive in San Felipe.
And as soon as we started driving north I felt my entire body, mind, and spirit relax. We no longer had boxes to pack, a house to clean, consulates to deal with. For a few days anyway, we had nothing to do but breathe.
The sights of Mt. Shasta, the green and changing colors of Oregon, the incredible hospitality of our brother and sister-in-law (thanks Roy & Sue!!!), delicious food and drinks, meeting up with friends, afternoon naps and long walks. It was exactly what we needed!
And when the time came to start driving south, we were both able to be excited, arms open and hearts ready for all that God has in store for us.
I put my feet in the Pacific Ocean and got sunburned on the beach. I listened to Paul Theroux talk about his latest book, Dark Star Safari, at the Capitola Book Cafe. I bought local honey and oranges at the Santa Cruz farmer's market. I spent an afternoon in Shakespeare's Garden at Golden Gate Park. I saw protests and arrests in Berkeley -- President Bush having just declared war on Iraq. I slept at a fire station in Napa and ate Olallieberry Pie in Pescadero.
I didn't have a cell phone at the time, so I called my grandmother from a pay phone along the way. I told her about my latest adventures. "Are you lost?" she asked, thinking I should be halfway to Arkansas by now.
Some had the same reaction when Randy and I moved out of our California home last week and, instead of heading straight south to Mexico, went north to Portland, Oregon.
We were anything but lost, however. We were intentionally giving ourselves permission to take a few days to rest, process, and reset. We needed to do it for ourselves. We needed to do it so that we can be our best for the children when we arrive in San Felipe.
And as soon as we started driving north I felt my entire body, mind, and spirit relax. We no longer had boxes to pack, a house to clean, consulates to deal with. For a few days anyway, we had nothing to do but breathe.
And when the time came to start driving south, we were both able to be excited, arms open and hearts ready for all that God has in store for us.
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