The view from where I sit is changing today—from my perch overlooking the Bay to the landscape of the great Midwest as my husband and I travel south to warmer climes.
I look forward to this view. It is one of sitting and pondering and appreciating what passes by. Even though the pace of my life on a day-to-day basis is lived fairly slowly (by conscious choice), there is something very different about being a passenger in a car for hours on end just watching the scenery.
When we did this trip last year I often felt like a child, seeing the terrain through eyes of wonder. The landscape would shift, from flat to hilly to mountainous—then to flat again—depending on what state we were in. When we got out of the car for rest stops the people had changed too. Their demeanor, the cadence of their voices withunique accents, all lent themselves to this wide-eyed wonder.
I also experienced wonder about how different we are, yet how much the same, too. We all want the same things—creature comforts, happiness, love, good health, gainful employment, joy ... We want to be treated well, respected, appreciated.
So when we drive, I gobble up the scenery, and savor the trees, flowers, and creatures, all so different than those from where I usually sit. I try to purvey that open-hearted friendliness Midwesterners are known for. If you talk long enough to a Midwesterner, they're bound to find someone that you both know or who knows someone you know. We're funny that way. We keep talking until we make an intimate connection. Six degrees of separation ...
I take a little notebook with me and jot down memorable things. Though I can't get too engrossed in my ponderings because I am also the navigator (map reader) and the sentry for potholes and boulders, as my dear hubbie has sometimes missed those. Very expensive!
My growing edge is not to be a back seat driver. I sometimes do that. A bad habit, I think, from all my days as a single mom when I was always on the lookout for my children's safety. My beloved reminds me to sit back, relax, and enjoy. To trust his driving. For he is an excellent driver after all—never had an accident in 45 years of driving. But what about that boulder, I think to myself?
There will always be boulders and potholes in life. You just can't get away from those. But why make such a big deal about them? You may hit them—or not. Why worry? Life seems like a crap shoot a lot of the time. What happens does, what doesn't doesn't.
Why not take his advice? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. Life from wherever we sit is pretty darn amazing. don't you agree?
Traveling mercies upon all of you, wherever you find yourself this week! I'll be in touch.