The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. I’m chuckling to myself over my iced coffee, hastily prepared on my way out this morning. I woke at my usual time, but ahead of my alarm. I woke from a sound restful sleep that followed a deeply relaxing day of self-care and creativity.
… I woke thinking it was Monday, and that I was “running late”…
I rushed through my morning routine, quickly made coffee, and quietly left the house (very much in the usual way). I was heading to the office in dense traffic and a drenching rain before I remembered that I’m off work today (and tomorrow… and next Monday…), and that I’ve got very different plans than work. It is, however, raining quite hard, too hard for unfamiliar mountain roads in darkness, too hard for plein air painting with soft pastels, later.
…I hope the rain stops…
I head to a nearby familiar local park with a favorite trail to wait for daybreak, and (maybe) a break in the rain. I’ve got plans, sure, but I’ve also got backup plans (mostly amounting to alternate destinations). Rather than frivolously wasting fuel going all the way to one location then to another, I give myself some time to wake up properly, get my bearings, and wait for more daylight while I think things over. The whole point of this time off is to do with relaxing and indulging artistic inspiration. There’s no need to rush at all. No rules imposed on my decision making beyond being safe. No “timeliness requirements”, no “KPIs” or “SLAs”. If I wanted confirmation that I need this break from work, this morning’s somewhat panicked wake up certainly provided that!
It’s still quite early. The rain pauses long enough for a quiet walk in the pre-dawn gloom along the well-maintained partially lit trail. I gather my thoughts and consider the various locations I’d identified as being of particular interest this week. (Damn, yesterday was such a lovely day! Such a beautiful place!) I’m still inclined to head to the view points I’d selected (already a backup for my original plan, which is at high risk of snow and difficult to access under such conditions), but it’s not a route I care to drive in the dark on a rainy day. I sit with that thought awhile.
At some point, a spirit of adventure and eagerness to explore becomes a careless disregard of safety. At some point, a strict focus on safety becomes a fearful reluctance to experience something new. There’s a path between those choices. That’s the path I’m looking for, and hoping to find fulfillment, inspiration, and joy along the way. The “destination” may not actually be important to the experience. The journey is the destination.
I sip my coffee, grateful for the time I’ve taken for myself. Grateful to have recognized the need and acted upon it. Grateful for a partnership that supports and nurtures me. Grateful to see another sunrise. The sky slowly begins to lighten. Soon it will be time to begin again… I wonder where this path leads?
Evening Light 