Slow & Steady

There is a certain mindset one must get into to fully absorb life on the road, especially life on the road in a vehicle not really equipped for the mountains, but you’re driving through every mountain on the map. I’ve said it before & I will say it again: Ruby is SLOW. The other day, we drove 60 miles across the Nevada desert & it took us 3.5 hours. Yesterday, we also drove 3 miles on a shitty gravel road at an aggressive uphill grade & it took us 1 hour. Yes, you heard that right - 1 HOUR to drive 3 miles. 

Now that is far from a normal day in the bus; we try our best to plan around elevation and heat to set Rubes up for success, but sometimes you can start the day at 6AM and still find yourself roadside by 8AM. Sometimes you have days where you just would like to drive further than 100 miles because you are driving across a freaking desert & don’t care to see anymore tumbleweed. And sometimes you have a cool, choice stop in the middle that leaves you contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to get on the road at 3pm or to sit and do nothing for a few hours because you will probably arrive at the destination at the same time if you leave at 3pm or 6pm. As much as we plan, you cannot plan around it all & still get to see it all. 

So what do we do? We take breaks. Lots & lots of breaks. I should make an album of all the breaks we take, but most of the stop points aren’t very exciting. I call this form of travel the scenic of the scenic routes. "You don’t think there is anything you want to see in central Nevada, eh? Well, Imma prove you wrong and let you stare at this rock for the next 15 minutes while I relax and breathe in some air.” -Ruby

And sometimes, it gets to be a lot. In that 3 hours of Nevada desert driving, we probably stopped at least 10 times, with an average of 5-8 minutes each stop. We also went through more than a handful of passes/summits while it was 85F out which never is a good combination. So we take breaks - all kinds of breaks. We take dog walk breaks, cribbage breaks, pull your hair out breaks, clip your nail breaks, Paper iO competition breaks, make some lunch breaks, eat your feelings breaks, plank it out breaks, and let me tell you it goes on. We’ve taken so many breaks, that I feel like we just blend into the countryside at this point. 

But, it has tested me & made me consider how this could be a teaching experience from bus —> human. Why rush through it? Why not live in the present? Why not try to find the best in every moment? Why not take the scenic of the scenic routes? Why not just BE here in the moment - side of the road among tumbleweed or with my toes in the sand? 

I find this lesson something I’m always striving to be - through yoga practice, attempts at meditation, and journaling - they are all attempts to just be in the present. Slow down. Thank your body. Find the good. Gain perspective on the world. In a time like a global pandemic, we can all get restless. We can get cranky without even knowing why. There is something so interesting about the CHOICE of slowing down and the FORCED slow down that our body responds to so differently. Ruby overheating is a FORCED slow down. Cities shutting down due to a pandemic is a FORCED slow down. Wildfires raging through California is a FORCED slow down. What if we could learn to appreciate these forced slow downs and treat them as a choice slow downs? See them as a gift instead of a roadblock; a gift to remind us to live for today.

You and me, on the side of the road wherever life may find you. That may not have been our planned destination, but let’s make it great (sometimes we even close the hood for a photo op)!

Oh! & we cant complain too much because Rubes took us to 10,000ft elevation the other day! #warrior

Peace, love, & presence,

yo’ girl Jen (not so namaste)

PS) This all reminded me of a post I wrote about when I was teaching abroad in Thailand a few years back, excerpt below:

“My family blessed me with a vey special talent: to never be able to sit still. Whether it's the constant vibration of my right leg shaking every table I sit at or my inability to watch an entire movie, I have always been an ancy-Nancy. I consider it more of a gift than a hinderance most of the time except when my schedule has blank spaces. There is only so much time I can spend folding and re-folding my laundry, meticulously shredding fresh carrots, and pacing back and forth in my 20x20 square foot room before I go insane.”

I’ve come a long ways, but still have a long ways to go. May we find joy in the process.