I really wanted to do something active today. I drove to Canyonlands a half hour away, stopped at the visitor center, and arrived at the first overlook to eat breakfast. But I could not get over the hump that had developed since I woke up. I’m not entirely sure what it was—residual exhaustion from a long and strenuous yesterday; my body resettling after a couple of days with only half my normal medication; stress from the worrisome thunk of a rock hitting my undercarriage last night. For whatever reason, today became a Bad Day. I could have powered through it. Instead, I finished my orange, turned around, and retreated to Moab.
Things that I usually found joyous now set my nerves on edge. The little kids running around and giggling? Tension. A delicious meal? Worry for my health. I tried pulling out my puzzle book, but couldn’t concentrate. I hold myself to a high standard with my puzzling. My temporary terrible-ness was the most frustrating of them all. I should have gone for a walk, even though I would have worried about sunburn. My substitute was to pace through drugstores and supermarkets. This will pass, and tomorrow will be better. I know myself well enough to know that. And I’m fortunate that I could keep to myself today and not affect others. These are the silver linings of today.
I spent a lot of today thinking. Appealing to logic is usually my best defense against overwhelming emotion. My most pressing question was: why am I out here? I didn’t ask it judgmentally, but honestly. This is not how normal people take vacations. I’ve met others doing what I’m doing, but the motivations don’t line up. Most are outdoor enthusiasts, and I’m no dedicated hiker, photographer, or stargazer. Some are with partners or small groups. I met one woman in Kentucky who was finishing up her own four-month trip after the death of her fiancé. I wasn’t running from trauma; even if I found my day-to-day routine staid, there were other ways to shake things up.
The best hypothesis I can come up with is that I’m tapped into the collective unconscious and carrying out my personal monomyth: the protagonist that leaves home, overcomes a crisis, and returns changed. This is the Odyssey, returning the ring to Mordor, the Wizard of Oz. I have become Simba. This would simultaneously comfort me in its rationality, worry me about my lack of agency, and label me as a narcissist—I get to be the “protagonist”. I suppose that’s only human as well.
Part of the purpose of a journey like this is to take a journey of DISCOVERY — both outwardly and inwardly. Glad to see you’re taking the time to do both.
“I know this superhighway,
This bright familiar sun —
I guess that I’m the lucky one —
Who wrote that tired sea song
Set on this peaceful shore?
I guess you’ve heard this one before…” — Steely Dan
Oh Jake- love you honey. And remember, bad moments not bad days!
Sounds like a Walkabout to me, with some American adjustments. Just 10 years behind as far as the Australian Aborigines are concerned.
Glad you are self-managing in positive ways.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walkabout
Jake, you need a hug! Since we are not able to be there physically in your hour of need, consider this. Love is limitless. It surrounds you at this moment at this time and always. Right now. At this moment. You are bathed in love. Half your normal medication could be a good part of your doldrums. Certainly concern for the well being of your car has something to do with it. I wonder if you could find a trustworthy mechanic to check it out. Aim for your Denver reunion. Find some good places to stop along the way. Eat well! Now is not the time to worry about diet. Jeff and I are home again. I am glad to be back in my own bed with my own pillow! Your Mom and Dad fly home today. Things are settling down. Continue to believe in yourself and carry on. You are very special. We are with you every step of the way. Love, Grandma
Jake,
Just know that bad days are a part of everyone’s lives. ( Is that apostrophe in the correct place?) Remember how loved you are. You certainly have a special place in my heart- being the first of Nonni’s boys.
I am so proud of you and this unbelievable journey that you are on. Stay strong !
Love,
Nonni
Oops! Bad moments- not bad days!