Lesson 3: The Cross-Country Road Trip That Was Sparked by the Coronavirus Outbreak
Living in flow means maneuvering through both rapids and stillness with ease
It was a fifty shades of grey type of morning when we hit the road. It had been raining for at least a few hours prior to our departure. How do I know this?
The soaking wet driving cushion that I shoved down onto the floor of the passenger side was one indication. This delightful surprise appeared when my fiance realized he left his sunroof open the night before…
His driver’s seat was miraculously semi-dry thanks to his aging hippie seat cover and incredibly necessary seat cushion. One thing you learn after driving a Subaru across the country — those seats were not meant for long-distance driving.
Luckily, we had a 10+ hr drive ahead of us so I gave him mine to use in the interim because I drive a Nissan and their seats are noticeably more comfortable. Not many things in life are this noticeable, but this was from the get-go.
The hotel lobby was dark and empty when we stepped off the elevator on our way out except for one older woman who was working the front desk and retrieving the breakfast items, individually wrapped, from the back. I asked for double the breakfast burritos to-go knowing deep that I was opting for a non-vegan option and that if I was going to break the rules, I might as well go all in.
There aren’t many vegan-friendly “healthy” options when you’re driving cross-country so you’ve got slim pickin’s between truck stop chips, fruit, and nuts and the occasional vegetarian cold sandwich or burrito. We had gone grocery shopping the day before and stocked up on as much as we could but strategically avoiding food that would spoil or melt quickly. I managed to snatch up some cold brew coffees sans- milk at a Love’s truck stop on the way in that I was saving for these two-day solo trips.
__________
The pelting rain made the “always under construction” highways even more dangerous to two stuffed vehicles and a hitched trailer. The roads curved up and down, cars merged from all sides and initially, I began to worry we wouldn’t make it in 12 hours if we were going to go this slow.
Oh…. what I’d do to get that rain back an hour later.
We’d arrived at what seemed like a Love’s gas station from what we could tell amidst the fog and snowy hail. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I regretted it because it was freezing and tiny ice spears fell from the white haze stabbing me from every angle.
__________
You know how in life there is a saying that goes something like, some times things get worse before they get better? well, things definitely got much worse before they got better as we drove away from the frigid station into a snowstorm.
Cruising Through Snow With A Trailer
Doesn’t that title have a comforting ring to it? If only that’s what it felt like in real life.
***Dear readers, I don’t recommend you try this at home***
I was lucky to be behind the wheel of my newly auto shop checked vehicle and a brand new battery. I also have AWD so I managed to stay safe during the 2-hour drive through a wall of white snow and intermittent fog and icy patches.
My fiance was the one driving the trailer behind his ol’ and faithful Subaru. And did it prove to be faithful many times when he went slipping on the road sending the trailer like a bobbling like a doll left and right. He told me he practically got a heart attack driving that trailer through the snow and was shaken by the experience. So I can only assume it was a cortisol-spiked butthole-pinched ride the entire time for him.
I, on the other hand, continued to listen to Eckart Tolle throughout this portion because just listening to him invoked a deeper sense of calm in me — and stress doesn’t mix well with icy roads and snow. While biting into a surprisingly warm non-vegan burrito from the hotel, I felt alright. Over the last few days I had managed to spend a considerable portion of my time in the car listening to The Power of Now. I also had chances to practice some of the teachings of presence throughout the drive which became something I looked forward to each day. I really believe that this change in my outlook was what helped me stay sane as we drove away from a COVID-19 dam that was about to break on the East Coast.
I practiced presence during the drive as much as I could and many times I felt immense peace and joy settle in during practice. Whether I was driving or merely observing the passing scenery, I felt so at ease. I would go in and out and try not to grasp at the feelings if they began to dissipate.
18-wheeler trucks would pass us by at what seemed like zooming speeds of 50 mph leaving trail markings in the snow that we rejoiced in each time a truck would drive around us. Yes, it was the small things in that moment that made a difference, like deeply trodden snow and dry bridges to help keep the drive relatively consistent as I drank my tea and ate my burrito.
__________
The snow had turned to rain two hours in and we had made it through the mountain plains and the seemingly endless snow. The rain also began to dry up as we drove into Utah. The spectacular mountain ranges never disappoint and I was happy to see them again. This drive is probably one of the most beautiful in the summer going past all of the different state mountain ranges and peaks. It was on the edge of the Idaho/Utah border that the clouds had slid across the canopy sky and revealed golden hues and charcoal white-tipped mountains. It was truly spectacular. so I cried and I released.
I cried for the disease and the people it was hurting and the lives it was destroying.
I cried for the corruption that has poisoned our government and those around the world.
I cried for the personal struggles that I had overcome and that I had yet to meet.
I cried for the land and the life on this planet and the irreparable harm we’ve inflicted on it as a species.
I cried for the beauty and awe of the universe. For divine timing and for my life.
I yelled out loud and even moo-ed out the window towards the cows I passed by near the highway. I laughed and I cried some more as we approached a glorious red sunset. I wiped away the tears and I felt cleansed. Through everything we had gone through to get here, we were so close and we were in one piece.
The sun kept a red ember going for us up until we crossed the bridge over into Twin Falls.
Hello Portland, Oh Sweet Portland
The last day was here and it was the easiest portion of the entire trip. The roads were mostly flat and the sky was blue sprinkled with clouds here and there. I was tired from the day before but I was motivated to get to our destination at last. One sort of selfish reason why I love driving into Oregon is that every time I have arrived in the past, I’ve been greeted with sunny weather.
It’s been almost 9 years and the tradition has yet to be broken, granted I’ve only come in the summer, fall, and spring avoiding the wettest time of the year 🙂
The day we drove in from Colorado in October, we weren’t disappointed as we were greeted with a rainbow right above the Columbia River.
This time we were met with a clear blue sky that contrasted beautifully against Mt. Hood’s peak. A bright orange train chugged on by the mossy cliffs on the Oregon side while fishermen enjoyed the weather in their boats. Life felt so right once more. I drove past the remnants of an old train tunnel and remembered how I felt on the drive out back in December, sad to say goodbye.
Now here I was to stay. For the foreseeable future. I’ve never felt more at home anywhere in the world than in Portland, OR. And I always fought myself in the past when conversations came up about moving so far west.
It was on the opposite side of where my family lived and that seemed like enough of an excuse. However, over the years as we traveled from one city and state to the next, trying them out like Goldilocks with the porridge, nothing could evoke the same feelings. We tried to make it work everywhere we went but life never felt so effortless anywhere else. And, as everyone knows, the best relationships are the most effortless.
There are a number of reasons why I adore Portland, OR but I won’t use this article to profess them 🙂
What Is Flow
Whenever I’ve provided others with a definition of being in flow, I would use the example of a river. When in flow, it’s like you’re floating on a donut or raft effortlessly down a calm river on and on. If fear and lack take over, and flow is interrupted, the river freezes over, and you get stuck on the raft and have to walk to the shore to make camp and get back into “survival mode”.
This makes it seem that being “in flow” means that life will feel ONLY effortless and smooth in flow. Any other feeling, means you’re not “in flow”.
I don’t agree with this black and white definition. I challenge it.
Instead, I believe that being “in” and “out of flow” is more like having the right equipment for the right conditions. The equipment can be your attitude, habit, or perspective on the situation. And the life situation, which is always truly neutral, is the river temperament.
You can stay in flow no matter the challenges that you face on the river of life because when you’re in flow you are tuned in to a deeper awareness and can more clearly navigate a situation.
The situation such as river rapids can be seen as a blessing to some and as a grievance to others. The difference is in the equipment. How you’ve equipped yourself with the perspectives and habits you’ve formed.
If you continue to blame the river for being a river without changing boats, plugging up holes, and altering your “equipment” nothing will change and you will fall out of flow. Continuing to work on old problems and getting caught up in them as new situations arise from what seems like out-of-the-blue.
__________
When we drove up into the entryway of the storage unit facility, I was excited to get this part over with so we could get to our final destination which included a much-needed comfy bed. We reserved a drive-up storage unit because, after every experience we’ve had with moving, this was the best decision for us with two packed cars and a towed trailer.
As we approached our rented unit we became more skeptical as the location manager took a turn down a very narrow alley and stopped at a wooden door. This one is yours, she said.
Oh, no it wasn’t. This was not a drive up and barely had a protective door. This wouldn’t work. So we started a conversation. Luck was in the stars for us, because apparently a real drive up unit right in the middle with a metal door was also available. It was also cheaper. Life had managed to take a last-minute twist as it did with the trailer so we sighed deep sighs of relief as we hurried to sign the contract and get to business.
We tetrised our belongings into what seemed like a walk-in closet managing to fit everything but our bikes. The day was almost over. 8 hours of driving done. 3 hours of unpacking done. Now it was time to unpack all the food we bought for the next few weeks and lastly ourselves.
The next morning came and with it, I awoke late, feeling complete. This part of the journey was over. The coronavirus was spreading faster and hotels were now closing. Quarantine had come up in the news but it wasn’t so widespread as it is today. But in a way, it didn’t matter.