Saturday, May 9, 2009
May 9th. Saturday. Beautiful spring day. Kitchen’s a bustle. Life is good.
This is my last week as a 54 year old. It has been a spectacular year, all things considered. A year ago I was about to take myself on a one week bike ride on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, my first trip to that spot. I was not sure I could do the ride in any degree of comfort. I was coming off a heartbreak and needed some healing and some distance. The ride seemed like a good thing to do.
A week after I came home I got a note from the ride organizers mentioning a ride across the United States for this spring. I said, out loud, “I’d like to do that.” And Emily, my office manager, said, out loud. "I think you should.” So it began.
Here now, a year later, I have done it. Ridden my bicycle across the country. At the moment I have a tweaked back which makes it especially hard to believe that I did this ride. But I have a bunch of pictures to look at and a bunch of people to write to and a bunch of newspaper clippings and I KNOW it happened. Somehow it happened.
I think it is important to keep a vision, to keep a dream, to state things out loud. To write things down and look at them and know, somehow know, that things will, can, do happen. Unimaginable things. Really. I know this. You can trust me. I do.
And it also is understandable to be home and to be wondering how to put that into this. I saw a guide yesterday who talked about relaxing and letting go and not trying to push anything into anyplace. Just let go, trust. Keep trusting. Keep imagining, though that is not necessary, really.
And a couple of things have happened that make me sit up and take notice. The café is busy. The staff is making really good food. The people who come here are coming, coming, coming in. Yesterday someone said, “Whenever I have something important, really important to do, I come to Laurey’s first. I eat, filling my body and my soul. And then I go do that thing. It is the way I start to do everything that is really important to me.”
And this morning someone picked up a bite of her quiche and said to me, “This is Joy on a plate.”
So those are good things. This is a fine place. I am incredibly lucky to have this as the place to come home to. I’m a part of something bigger than me here. And that is a very good thing. Going away. Coming home. Putting the two together. Creating a vision. Living it. It’s head spinning. And I’m happy to be home.
Oh – I turn 55 this week. Double Nickel. Another auspicious number. Another opportunity. Whoo whee! Whoa. Hold on. Here we go.