A Rest Stop Interlude

I’m pulling off into a rest stop.  It’s not a roadblock; I haven’t been detoured, nor am I stalled at a fork in the road.  I’ve been driving long hours through

stormy weather, while my destination remains elusive, ever on the horizon, always just one more day’s drive away.

Every journey must include rest stop interludes.  These oases stand out on the landscape as concrete evidence of the expectation that a rest is essential.  They

are designed to cater to the needs of any journey, providing a sanctioned time and place to pause, to rest with like-minded travelers, on like-minded pilgrimages, share stories, take repast.  Here you can find a spot of shady grass, an improbably frozen ice cream sandwich that lasts to the end in the heat.  Here you can eavesdrop on traveling conversations, be a part of an ephemeral community not found anywhere else.

There is palpable relief in such a sanctioned break, your fingers finally unclenching from the wheel.  There is the sheer pleasure of rolling out a map on the hood of the car, gathering round in anticipation to see what lies ahead and

to see the tangible proof of accomplishment in how far you’ve come already.  In these places, in these precious singular moments in time, we have everything.  We’re in the moment – the present – where we can pause and relax and allow ourselves the full pleasure of that moment – a well-deserved break.

As we rest, we’re allowed to reflect on the past.  There is already nostalgia about that part of the journey and we can laugh now about the good and the bad; the odd things and people we experienced, things we wouldn’t have ever seen had we not embarked.  Safe now in this haven we can revel and boast, share travails with those who understand, our fellow travelers.  We can learn from our travels, inform our future course.  Like those shortcuts that looked so good on the map, but added grueling long hours to the journey on treacherous roads and incited

bickering in the back seat.

These rest stops also hold our future, the road before us with the Christmas morning excitement and anticipation of what’s to come, what’s imminent.  Possibilities abound, the world literally at your fingertips on that map laid out before you, where anything can and will unfold.  It’s waiting just for you, to fuel up and fill up, to empty out, refreshed and ready to hit the wide open road once more.

But right now, right here – there is the shade, the place where time stops, leaving the moment in between, where it all converges, where you truly have it all.  It is a moment in which to fully acknowledge and appreciate your

monumental journey.  So I have pulled over.  I can take stock and I can allow myself to rest and reflect, to see where I’ve been, to see the paths surely before me.  In the past several years I have traveled non-stop in work, relocated, sold my home of over 20 years, survived familial crises and passings, and one pissed off heart.  I’ve run so hard and blindly I smashed headlong into the blazing sun

and fell back down burnt and bloodied.  I chose a new home and toiled with immovable boulders in order to insert myself there and claim my space.  I learned to be still and when I did, deeply buried, patiently waiting pieces of myself emerged, coalesced.  I reached out and found waiting hands and haunts and I began growing again, finding a solid foundation below and infinite stars above.

And now, here I am.  There are remarkable journeys behind me, their stories tucked safely away in the trunk and the future awaits with

stories yet to be lived and told.  It’s all right here, right now, in this pause in between.