My apologies; I’m writing this from a moving Amtrak train, which is currently winding its way up the Northern Coast of California.
Traveling to California wasn’t something I’d anticipated doing this winter, but when two of my heart-felt friends asked, one in San Diego and one in Los Angeles, how could I say no?
What’s amazed me, and what’s amazed me with almost every human interaction I’ve had whenever I travel, is how well we do with one another, and how well folks look after each other. I try to be a shining star when I travel- not too complain-y, tired, or melancholy. Times can change with moods, weather or screaming babies to think about, but we pull through.
I’ve met an amazing librarian named Elsie from Bend, Oregon, whose book suggestions leave me yearning to read. What about Marsha, from San Diego, whose walking of over ten marathons in her sixties left me inspired? Even the train conductors- I chuckle at the woman’s harsh reminders to passengers that ‘ yes, this is your train, and yes, it’s theirs too’.
Something about traveling gets me so high, but leaves me so humbled.
I think it’s the authenticity of everyone you’ve met along the way- people on the edge of a cliff with excitement, but cautious about taking the next step. People prepared for vacation, waxed and ready for the beach, but wearing sweatpants until they land.
It’s all the same. Every people, every culture. It’s good to know we all deserve life, love, and happiness.
But we’re so vulnerable, here, in this in between space.
I’m going to see my week fly past by my eyes in two seconds flat- but I’ll see determination, happiness, hope and logic when it’s all said and done. Because what I know, aboard this train, roaring through the coast line, is we’ve all done things were scared of. And we’ve survived, for the most part, messily, but none the worse for wear.
Today, I join the masses- California, here I come.
P.s: if I move here, no one act surprised back home!