Last night, I pulled into my apartment complex, unloaded the Vibe, thanked my neighbor for keeping an eye on the one-eyed cat, and fell into bed – not sleeping.
It was if all of the hours of driving, time with kids, sis, family, and friends, more driving, praying, seeking, searching, knocking, banging, crashing (nearly into an errant herd of pygmy goats while driving on the highway), and resting had finally unpacked a few answers I'd been asking for months…years even.
Life was meant to be lived, not filled with fearful navel-gazing.
Yesterday morning, I crawled off the couch of a kind not-stranger who happens to care for my daughter, brushed my teeth, packed the car, and with the help of Google navigation, drove towards Broken Arrow to pick up my colleague and new friend, Paul. Paul had been up all night reconnecting with his pals and was due for a long winter's nap. I was on driving duty in the dark.
Driving in the dark is one of my least favorite things: too few distractions and a wealth of the unseen. And then I saw it. The sun. The last morning's sun of the old year was rising directly ahead on this unknown road that would take us home.
The sky was huge and soon filled with what can only be called an epiphany of color in the quiet of a slumbering morn. And directly ahead where the horizon met the highway, was the coming sun.
And that my friends, is all I have. A road ahead. A wide open unknown. A Son who will meet me as I drive forward.
For the first time in months…I cannot wait for today. Give me the unknown road, the one task and then another, uncertainty, and invisibility – as long as I'm on a road that will get me home. With the Son ahead, I'll summon up the courage and take my place behind the wheel.
A few caveats, addendums, and permutations (shufflings):
The road ahead is always better in good company – albeit snoring softly (sorry to out you, Paul). We'd looked at the navigation together and then agreed on the course. He waited to sleep until he knew we were on the right road towards home. I appreciate that. Do not leave without good companions. For a lifelong solo artist, this was revelatory. (Wait for the good companions. Don't settle for the next up.)
Leave the plans to your best guess, an open hand, and an unseen God. Before driving out to Kansas, I frittered and fussed about whether I should go, would I intrude, how much I hate to be seated in a car for more than 30 minutes (with 14 + 4 hours of driving day 1), and if I'd be a disappointment to my family and friends. I was in a spin (oh, Paul, I owe you.) Something finally just said, Go!, and somehow the wisdom of releasing plans and just hitting the open road filtered in and we launched westward.
The result? I enjoyed Madi and Kenan, our time, meeting up with friends – mostly unexpectedly – an evening chatting with my sister on her bed, meeting Mimi's new daughter-in-law, a lack of fear at the possibility of engaging with people who have caused me great pain, and the sweetest knowing that life is less what we make it and more of what we allow through the front door of our experience. I missed seeing my aMayseing and painting pals, but did bumble through a lovely week or so on the sunny plains.
Be brave and ask for help. I had an invitation to meet someone for an adventure towards the tail end of the trip. I couldn't figure out how to summon the courage to say yes or how it was going to work out. I did say yes late in the trip and the day was a lot of fun. Before I left, though, and along the road, I had asked trusted people to pray. It seems that they did. Even though I was down to the last of the clean-ish clothes and a bit ragamuffinish (my new look), the conversation was delightful, the photos of Cuba insightful, and though the Chihuly exhibit was closed until the following day (why we met in OKC), we managed to sneak a peek through closed gallery doors and get reprimanded as if we were teenagers. Fun. And good company.
No matter what you do to plan, massage, finagle, and control, the road ahead is wholly unknown. Generally, I pride myself in packing a scant amount for a long haul. Not this trip. With a shoehorn, we could have possibly wedged in a bit more stuff. Provisions for potential blizzards (best. sunniest. weather. ever.), clothes and blankets in case we were stranded in a snow drift, gifts, indecision, and stuff to work on filled the car. Fortunately, no calamities chanced upon us. But the road, the trip, conversations, prayers prayed, Chinese Chef and Chipolte's consumed, and the delightfully mundane or unexpected occurred. I even got to peek at National Geographic photographer, Joel Sartore, and his son recording the Sunset Zoo animal collection on film (after a hug from Ella and other Zoopals.)
Which brings us to a conclusion.
Life is best lived – not worried about nor controlled and planned to death. Lived.
And if you are going to live it, try to live it with an open hand.
There is a reason why the Almighty reminds his kids often to "Cease striving" and know who is God (hint: we aren't). Do your due diligence, plan, get money for the tolls, pack your shorts and mittens, and hit the open road. Bring books (preferably by Bill Bryson or Seth Barnes', Kingdom Journeys), turn off the racket, unplug from the life sucks, and move towards the people and opportunities that bring life. All of the virtual world pales in comparison to the reality of loved ones and new friends nearby. Listen to them as they breathe and as the wind whips around the car. See the sculptures beside the road. Laugh when the yodeling pickle fires up at the worst possible moment. Go ahead and dance en route. It is a good life if we are willing to live it.
BONUS: Safe to say that the unexamined life is not worth living and neither is the over-examined one. So long 2011, glad to have known you & equally glad you & your worries are now in the rearview.
Bonus Bonus!: Please read this essay, the Joy of Quiet, by Pico Iyer – if only that you can say you read something by a smart insightful guy named, Pico.
I like the new pic – captures more of your personality.
The year ahead is going to be a good one. Maybe your best ever!
“Do not leave without good companions.” – sometimes easier said than done. Sometimes waiting for those companions to step up leaves you stranded. Sometimes we are asked to go it alone (though alone is subjective, considering we are never truly alone). But definitely, good companions are what I want! Thanks for sharing this!