My plan was to spend a week visiting my friend Vickie, explore wine country and the coast before turning the car towards Santa Fe. Ever since the conception of this trip I felt compelled to be in the presence of the sea and redwood forest. Two untimely auto accidents resulting in a five-month delay could not, would not, prevent a desire so strong and a pull so convincing, to be here. Finally I had arrived, without reservation, but in celebration of each mile and minute.
Vickie had plans to attend a dinner dance at the Sausalito Yacht Club that evening and invited me to tag along. Why not? After all I had come here to spend time with Vickie and I would be near the water. The “yacht” turned out to be funky old barge decorated by Christmas lights, nets and lots of pictures of captains and such. After dinner the band set up and began to play, the dancing started. I had eaten my fill, made lots of small talk but did not feel compelled to dance, at least not yet. The water beckoned. I made my way through the crowd out onto the bow. The evening air felt cool on my warm desert-brown skin. Finally after months I was at the coast. Why was the pull to be here so strong? Why did it take so long?
A woman with a smile as wide and inviting as the Cheshire cat approached. She said she lived in Sonoma County and often came to these dances with her friends. In turn I told her how serendipity bought me here tonight and of my desire to explore the area. In just that moment on a barge in Sausalito I had met my tour guide for the next two weeks. Janine told me she had taken several extended road trips in the past few years exploring the American west. She had traveled with family or friends and was surprised to learn that I was doing it solo. I explained that the purpose of my trip was both to enjoy the beauty of the landscape while completely immersing myself in the present. “It has been a challenging year and this is my way of finding my center.”
The trip provided time for introspection. I was on the road to discover where my path would next lead. I had just received a job offer from a park in northeastern Washington state and had to decide in the next few days whether to return home to New Mexico or fly the coop. I pondered how my life would be affected by my decision. I realize there are never wrong answers, but only choices, each leading down a different path. Perhaps all paths converge. More than likely I am hapless in my belief that I can control my destiny. Maybe I am taking life and all my decision making too seriously? Whatever the truth, I still had to make a decision about the job offer.
With my course charted, I began to play. Armstrong Woods, Jenner Beach, Point Reyes, Muir Woods, Mount Tamalpais, Stinson Beach, Sugarloaf Ridge, Bodega Bay, Shell Beach, kayaking on the Russian River, wine tasting. I immersed myself in tall trees, salt water, and cabernet, cleansing my mind of one year's worth of accumulated clutter and nonsensical chatter. I felt light, free and present. I found a little bit of heaven in the headlands at Mendocino watching oystercatchers flutter above their claimed rock as waves splashed an imaginary threat. There were flowers, clouds, sunshine, rainbows and Janine's winsome smile to brighten each moment tumbling like the waves into the next.
May 7 Home
There is an abalone shell adorning the mantle in my cabin. It serves as a touchstone reminding me that all is perfect. It was plucked from the sea during my odyssey to the California coast. I no longer question the timing of my walkabout. My journey taught me to trust. I have come to embrace what is presented even when I don’t understand 'why' or 'how'. My trust led me to joy. A joy that was always present but needed dusting off. Through the grace of the sea, mountains and desert I have been reminded to embrace the Now.
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