Spotting a woman tucking pillows into white covers next to a van in the Fred Meyer parking lot, I felt compelled; to pull into an adjacent spot to chat with her about road life and to share memories of making my bed at rest areas and National Parks in my Westfalia Vanagon.
Peering in is enough, I decide; I need to take heed on the roads I visit. Too much reverie and reminiscing of how things were are slippery slopes for me. And since it’s no one else’s job but mine to keep me safe, I wish her well silently, feel a fondness for her situation and trek ahead to my office to do my client work.
Later, while reflecting on my day, I question my writing; its value, and if I’m good enough. I fear I’m a bore, and you’ll get sick of me and leave. Why would you stay?
I realize I tolerated the stress of what I said just now better than ever. What progress! Rather than a, you shall not pass brick wall; my insecurities were merely a stumbling block to maneuver around.
You know what else?
I don’t care if I’m a bore or not good enough. If you get sick of me, that’s ok, ’cause I get sick of me too. If you leave, I’ll manage, especially knowing that the birds, plants, and the ocean’s breeze never will. I’m not saying I want you to leave because I don’t, but if you do, the value I get from processing my experience on the page is why I’m here. All the rest is gravy. (And I LOVE gravy.)