Jagged Little Coast
Just waking up in this little Airstream beauty on the last night of our “Celebrate 38” week-long tour and trying desperately not to panic that I couldn’t find my mom’s bracelet. I’d already been racking my brain the last few days over a misplaced—or lost–favorite jacket. Still haven’t found that.
But I just found the bracelet.
Living with a lost jacket would be much easier.
Now I’m sitting outside this trailer feeling humbly thankful and I can hear “Harvest Moon” playing in the distance. Maybe that’s where John and I are, now, I don’t know. Yesterday, as we drove down that jagged little coast, we listened to Bill Withers sing “I want to spend the night with you forever.” Thankful we are still humming that melody.
From Astoria to Ojai, it’s been a twisty-turny cruise. I think of the things gained and the things lost (or misplaced). I’m remembering a lesson I’d learned on the side of an Italian highway a few years ago, one about the bittersweet juxtaposition of life and one I tried to describe:
“…scanning the gentle, rolling hills, these three phrases enveloped my mind: This life is both exquisite beauty and excruciating pain. Expect nothing less. Accept all.”
I keep having to relearn the acceptance lesson. Some things seem lost, but some things have been found.
So we’ll hop back into the car this morning, buckle up, turn on some tunes, and head for home.
I’ve got my bracelet on. It’s warm so I don’t need that jacket anyway.
