Driving Still

During the night, dreaming, I'm still driving.
Last night I dreamed I was in Seattle and  my daddy was there wearing red gloves.  It was cold, and he was giving me some driving advice--which I can't recall this morning.

When I woke up, I noticed that there was no toilet paper.  "Where do these people keep their toilet paper?" I wondered--only to realize that I was "these people."

I haven't calculated the exact mileage, but it's somewhere around 7000 miles--of pure joy!  (I'm not counting the last 309 miles of terror piggybacking on the tow truck--though even that had one moment of happiness: "You can't be sixty five!" Kyle said, "I'd have thought maybe 50."  NObody ever says that; the trauma of a flat tire must have temporarily erased 15 years.)

I wrote earlier that if I trip doesn't change or stretch you, it's just a vacation.
Just?  I need a vacation today!  A time to just loll in the bed and rest--which is what I'm doing.

But how did this trip change or stretch me?

For one, it gave me such special times with old friends, Rone and Barbel--reminding me of the gifts of hospitality!  Dinner on Barbel's purple table and dinner with Rone's family and Linda in a room with twinkling white lights--those were by far the best meals of this trip.

For another, it gave me new friends along the way and what could be better than that?

For another, several of you have kept up with this blog and written me the dearest letters and "Glimpses" from Carlene that I am printing and keeping always.  I feel so stretched by the circle of people who have taken the time to follow along and be so present with me from the beginning to the end!

For another, it reminded me of the spaciousness and beauty in this country.  If I were to watch the news (which I rarely do) I would think that this country is all about politics and discord; getting away from the news allowed me to remember how much breathtaking beauty there is, what's worthy of admiration and protection.

Finally, I had the space to reflect: to engage primarily with the adventure of silence and solitude.  Sometimes we get so busy we forget to give ourselves solitude.  Sometimes we need time apart from house and work and everything--so that when we come back to it, we feel filled up again, ready to re-engage.