It’s amazing how a few sentences/insights can change EVERYTHING!
Yesterday, I dropped my husband off at the Pacific Coast so he could enjoy a long bike ride home. We usually take the Coleman Valley Road or the Bay Hill Road, both of which are lesser-used roads to the coast with spectacular views.
I usually drive, but that day, he said he would drive. And as we drove along a stretch of Bay Hill Road, I saw a complete north-to-south view of the hills and mountains along the Sonoma Valley, something I didn’t remember ever seeing before.
When I commented on this, I realized it’s because I’m usually the driver, and my eyes are on the road ahead of me. With only a quick glance to the side, or when we pull over to take in the view.
Jon said that’s why he wanted to drive that day: So I could enjoy that view instead.
Then he shared what a friend/fellow biker said to him awhile back:
When you’re doing a steep climb up a hill, don’t look ahead. All you’ll see is the hill you have to climb. No matter where you are, it will always be steep, and long. And maybe a little challenging, or very hard. It can feel discouraging.
Instead, look down. You’ll see the pavement rolling by, comforted by the fact that you are, indeed, making progress.
And look to the side! Enjoy the views, the flora and fauna, vistas of the rolling hills, the views of the coast, even Point Reyes! The clouds, the soaring vultures and hawks, the little California quails scrambling off the path.
I thought this was an amazing point-of-view. Literally, and metaphorically. (Thank you, Bob Stender!)
I’ve finished all the open studio tours for this year, the artist receptions at galleries, the huge project of restoring/refinishing of my enormous sterling silver collection, chains and jewelry findings that I over-oxidized over the last 20 years.
And it’s been a slooooooow year for sales, the usual for recognition/fame/fortune (as in, “not much”), etc. (I know it’s not just me, but of course, it FEELS like it’s “just me”….) And I fret when I wake up in the middle of the night, worrying about all the “what if’s”, the scary stuff, the fear our living situation could disappear almost overnight(this happened to a neighbor last year, after renting a home here for almost 15 years), the dismay when we discover we’ve lost another dear friend from “back home”, and knowing there are many, many more losses to come as we age. Even questioning whether we did the right things and made the right decisions in moving here, even raising our family…. What could we have done better? Is it too late to try harder??
Then come the moments, like this one, where I realize that everything I need in life is right here. Not in front of me, on the road uphill, but all around me.
The beautiful views of mountains, rolling hills, and sunsets. The breath-taking views of the ocean. The friends we’ve made when we started taking our dogs to a local dog park. The local friends and neighbors who have made our lives richer and more meaningful. The joy of finding new people/critters/things to love, finding purpose, finding connections.
With my creative work, I strive to remember that what I can do, is a privilege. I may not get rich from it, nor famous, and I don’t even get paid for writing anymore.
But I have a lovely space to create the work that heals my heart and soothes my scattered brain. I know the real value of the work I do, no matter how many, nor how few, appreciate it. It’s about what it means to ME, how it gets me to a better place, and how it opens my point-of-view–and my heart–to the real, deepr beauty in the world: The people who make life better for others, the folks with compassion for the less fortunate, the ones who help us heal, recover, even those who help us pass on…. The people who strive to create justice, peace, support, hope, for all of us.
I’m rambling again. I KNOW! We leave in a few hours for our flight to visit family on the East Coast tonight. I’m still not fully packed, and no matter how many lists I make, I know I’ll leave something critical behind. And though I should get packin’, a tiny part of me says, “Write this, NOW, in case your plane crashes, so people will hear this!” (Yep, that’s how my buzzy brain works.)
So if you’re feeling a little “less than” on your own life journey, remember Bob’s words:
Don’t focus on the uphill battle.
Instead, follow path of this powerful Navajo blessing prayer: