I think I have a weird notion of just what an adventure is. For some people, it might be skydiving, skirt-chasing downtown, or traveling all around the globe. For a rigid, routine-oriented person such as myself, an adventure is any slight deviation from what I typically see, do, or say.
An adventure, for me, is taking a shortcut that shaves a mile off my commute home. It's clenching my teeth and NOT compulsively leaning over to pick up the purse that just fell off the passenger seat of my car. It's having a conversation with an important person and slyly injecting a word whose pronunciation I've not yet mastered. It just doesn't take all that much.
I'm feeling refreshed and pleased to announce that I had an adventure today. Maybe not the kind I'd originally planned. . . but, then, aren't those the best ones?
I was supposed to meet up with some people at a campsite by a specific time. Lo and behold, I drove for two hours and couldn't find the place to save my life. My map from the Internet was totally different from what I actually encountered. I lacked the initiative to stop someplace and ask for directions. Instead, I kept turning my car around, searching, searching, and searching some more, but invariably hitting dead ends all over the place.
Eventually, that "specific time" for meeting up was merely 10 minutes away. I looked at the clock and sighed. They'd be leaving their tent and going boating or swimming at 1:30. My persistent calls to their cell phone went unanswered. If I ever made it there, I'd still never find them in the maze. Since I was tired and had a headache, anyway, I figured I should do an about-face and just go home.
Then, I realized that an attitude adjustment was in order, because this attempt might not have gone to waste, after all.
I stopped, slowed down, "opened my eyes," and really observed my surroundings. Here was a chance to view a part of the state I'd never seen before. At the charming, old-fashioned ice cream shop where I stopped for a snack, the service was friendly and languid. The mountains around me were awash in majestic beauty. I was getting a healthy dose of fresh air, sunshine, and time to myself. Heedless of the destination, this was an opportunity to escape from the mundane and clear my head of any stressful thoughts whatsoever.
I've said before that tea tastes a million times better when I drink it from the antique family teacups. . . the kind that my mom brings out only for Thanksgiving or Christmas or huge birthday celebrations. Well, in a similar sense, my good old CDs sounded spectacularly fresh when I played them amidst this scenery. For once, they weren't the backdrop for mindless errands in busy neighborhoods. Today, I could give the melodies a focus and an appreciation that they'd possibly never received.
Deep down, I craved that. Wasn't it something I always wanted, anyway? To pack up my car, be alone with my observations, and just drive. . . drive somewhere with no goal in mind. . . drive away from the everyday, and fast? Again, it may not have matched up precisely with the intent, but I was still living some sort of dream on a small scale. Might as well recognize the value in that.
While this cost me half a tank of gasoline (hence, the 15-dollar reference in the title), that didn't faze me. I suspect that the insights and the level of fulfillment I reached were worth every penny. At this point, I may have gotten something I needed above almost anything in the world.
(I'd ordinarily regret the inclusion of "almost" in that sentence, but there are some days, such as today, when "above almost anything" is truly good enough.)
An adventure, for me, is taking a shortcut that shaves a mile off my commute home. It's clenching my teeth and NOT compulsively leaning over to pick up the purse that just fell off the passenger seat of my car. It's having a conversation with an important person and slyly injecting a word whose pronunciation I've not yet mastered. It just doesn't take all that much.
I'm feeling refreshed and pleased to announce that I had an adventure today. Maybe not the kind I'd originally planned. . . but, then, aren't those the best ones?
I was supposed to meet up with some people at a campsite by a specific time. Lo and behold, I drove for two hours and couldn't find the place to save my life. My map from the Internet was totally different from what I actually encountered. I lacked the initiative to stop someplace and ask for directions. Instead, I kept turning my car around, searching, searching, and searching some more, but invariably hitting dead ends all over the place.
Eventually, that "specific time" for meeting up was merely 10 minutes away. I looked at the clock and sighed. They'd be leaving their tent and going boating or swimming at 1:30. My persistent calls to their cell phone went unanswered. If I ever made it there, I'd still never find them in the maze. Since I was tired and had a headache, anyway, I figured I should do an about-face and just go home.
Then, I realized that an attitude adjustment was in order, because this attempt might not have gone to waste, after all.
I stopped, slowed down, "opened my eyes," and really observed my surroundings. Here was a chance to view a part of the state I'd never seen before. At the charming, old-fashioned ice cream shop where I stopped for a snack, the service was friendly and languid. The mountains around me were awash in majestic beauty. I was getting a healthy dose of fresh air, sunshine, and time to myself. Heedless of the destination, this was an opportunity to escape from the mundane and clear my head of any stressful thoughts whatsoever.
I've said before that tea tastes a million times better when I drink it from the antique family teacups. . . the kind that my mom brings out only for Thanksgiving or Christmas or huge birthday celebrations. Well, in a similar sense, my good old CDs sounded spectacularly fresh when I played them amidst this scenery. For once, they weren't the backdrop for mindless errands in busy neighborhoods. Today, I could give the melodies a focus and an appreciation that they'd possibly never received.
Deep down, I craved that. Wasn't it something I always wanted, anyway? To pack up my car, be alone with my observations, and just drive. . . drive somewhere with no goal in mind. . . drive away from the everyday, and fast? Again, it may not have matched up precisely with the intent, but I was still living some sort of dream on a small scale. Might as well recognize the value in that.
While this cost me half a tank of gasoline (hence, the 15-dollar reference in the title), that didn't faze me. I suspect that the insights and the level of fulfillment I reached were worth every penny. At this point, I may have gotten something I needed above almost anything in the world.
(I'd ordinarily regret the inclusion of "almost" in that sentence, but there are some days, such as today, when "above almost anything" is truly good enough.)
2 comments:
So, you never found the campsite? Weren't people worried about where you were?
Nah, they figured out what happened, it was all good. They advised me to come with them next time.
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