Some Spiritual Truths: Oakdale to Kingsburg to Oakdale to Santa Clarita

Today I drove 531 miles.  235 of those miles twice.

Twice, you ask. How so?

Well, I started my day with  a wonderful breakfast at 7:00 am at Cahoots, where the working Cowboys go to eat. These two are the real thing.

You can tell by the boots. They were wearing get to work boots, not show off boots. And they were discussing the deluge which happened overnight and the impact it would have on their crops.

Anyway, a nice little senior cheese, tomato and avocado omelette, strong coffee and I hit the road in excellent spirits despite the thunderstorms and lightening which woke me up several times during the night.  The morning skies were clear and doves were cooing. I gave thanks.

Two hours later I stopped in a very cute little town called Kingsburg.  A tidy little Swedish village,  I was excited to stretch my legs, maybe find a Swedish treat, then get back on the road.

I found a juice bar and ordered a green shot with ginger juice. It was at that moment I realized my purse was back at Cahoots in Oakdale.

I had my phone, which has cash in it, so was able to pay for my juice, but the purse itself was nowhere to be found.

The little horse out front of the juice bar on Main Street, Kingsburg

I called Cahoots. Yep, they had it.

I almost cried.  Then I told myself to get a grip. I was going to be backtracking, so might as well make the most of it rather than  catastrophize the experience.  Reality options abound. I selected a new one.  I was going to  enjoy seeing the scenery from the other side of the freeway.

Two hours later, I was back where I’d begun, only this time with purse in hand.  Is this like a new beginning, I wondered?

I filled my gas tank-again- at the same gas station I’d discovered in the Hispanic part of town. 40 cents a gallon cheaper. Amazing. I gave thanks.

Began driving, thought about what I’d learned.:

Let go of expectations.  A big cosmic lesson, that one.  Things just don’t always turn out the way you imagine.

Yes, life does include suffering–but it also includes joy and celebration. I was joyful that the kind girl who’d served me my breakfast had held onto my purse (and glad I’d tipped her really well).

Where friendly people are also trustworthy.

I celebrated the reality of honesty in our world.  I gave thanks.

Life truly is about the journey, not the destination. If this little experience didn’t drive that home, nothing would.  If I approach every moment mindfully, taking in all that is, I will enjoy it much more.

I can choose to see the things that happen to me as “a trial” or bad luck, or as things to regret OR I can choose to see things as part of the adventure.  Life experiences, life lessons.

Once I accepted that I was going to be retracing my route and adding 4 hours of drive time to my day, I began to look at the scenery closely, noticing things I’d missed the first time. Like the mural with the dancing mastodons on an overpass near Merced.  Or the billboard across from a temple with golden spires which read, Please report violence against Sikhs, near Bakersfield.

I drove awhile in silence, then chanting. Then I turned on some music and really rocked out. I even sort of butt danced in my seat to ease the kinks and back pain.

Another lesson?  Become much more mindful about my things. Pay attention to the purse

I thought about my dear friend, M, who has been diagnosed with early onset dementia. I imagine it feeling like forgetting your purse and retracing three hours every day. the anxiety.

I am fortunate to still have the ability to pay attention. Now I must exercise that ability more.

And the final day’s lesson?

Yes, I can drive a 550 miles a day. But I’d rather not. I prefer the journey allow time for explorations.

Also, when you hit monsoon rain, then snowfall in a mountain pass, it’s preferable to do so by the light of day rather than as the sun sinks in the West.

A day of lessons along the pilgrimage toward seventy….