It is early. Not so early that I have not been up at this time before. I have my beautiful and smart and high energy Doberman puppy and so waking before 6:00 each morning is not uncommon. But it is early still.
And I am on the road.
My youngest daughter is heading back to school and I am coming along for the ride. I write this with intention because she really does not need me to take this trip with her. Fact is, she doesn't need me at all. I need her.
For this, I know, will be the last trip that she and I will take like this.
Of course I will take other trips with her. Road trips here and there, maybe even a day or two at a time, but this trip across five states and for four days is a trip that we probably won't have again.
There is the obvious reason why this trip is important. It is time I get to have with my now adult and incredibly independent youngest child. It is an opportunity to connect without interruption. And to sit in silence as the land passes around us.
But it is more.
Because for me this is a trip of trust. Not in the process of this trip but in the things I left behind. The sweet and smart and incredibly beautiful Doberman puppy to walk and feed. The cats to take care of. My other children and their comings and goings that will go on without me there to bear witness. How will it all work without me?
One if the hardest things for me is the letting go. The taking of that one step back. The calming of my worrying mind that all will be ok.
I am not sure when I became like this. I always thought I was easy going. With the flow, an easy mojo. But I seem to have a knack for worrying. In that deep set way where I am deeply invested in the outcome, whether it is feeding a pet or picking up a child at the airport.
And this is not good.
Because when I am worrying I am not present in the place where I am. Whether taking in the dimming Ojai light or here, driving with my daughter across state lines, if my mind is focused on those things I really can't do anything about anyway, I am missing what is happening right now.
And I don't want to miss these things.
And so this trip, for me, is a meditation in being present. In trusting that all is well at home. And that my moments with my lovely daughter is all i need right now.
Mother, Wife, Friend, Sister, Daughter, Dancer, Rower, Runner, Dog and Cat lover.