My Oregon Trail

I've traveled from the north end to the south end of the Oregon Coast this day and the car was full most of the trip with all those that I have driven the road with in years gone by. Two partners, my mom, and a handful of friends were all present to me this day as I recalled trips made over the last 18 years to the OC. Snapshots of adventures, cottages, discoveries, many special moments, beaches more than I can remember, laughter, and good food. As I looked back I realized that it's been almost 40 years since my Mom started to journey this route with Jimmy and Esther. Wow -that made me sit up and take notice. Forty years.
I enjoyed lunch and  a Chai Latte (the best ever, still) at the Green Salmon in Yachats. I spent a month in Yachats last February, before heading to La Quinta. Of course, I had to drive by the fire station to see if the goats were there; they were.

I've thought a lot in the past 2 years about 'what is the point' and today, with tunes on, the ocean to my right, and the highway unfolding, mile after mile, I thought to myself, "Well, if I died tomorrow, what will the point of this trip have been?" I'm not recalling what promoted the first thought, but nothing scary. Just a random thought. More to the point: there is no 'point' to my trip. There is no prize at the end, no reward, no great 'aha'. The trip is what it is. . . in the moment. The trip is delighting over the yellow flowers of the Oregon Grape in bloom, and the few sprigs of Broom flowering, redeeming itself from its otherwise rather scraggly looking clothes. The trip is seeing more new-born calves and lambs in the rolling fields, smelling freshly-cut lawns, and choosing my favourite cheeses at the Tillamook Creamery. The trip is glancing at Lucy cuddled up on the front seat with my purple fleece vest, her head poking through an armhole. The trip is pulling over at a view-point to marvel, still, at the curling surf running toward the sand and rocks, green and blue and white, frothy, and translucent - one of the liminal, or thin, places for me. The trip/my life is about noticing what's in front of me, and what I am in front of. It truly is about seizing the moment, being true to one's self, and being in right relationship. Perhaps it's not about 'the point' but about how I am. . . in the moment. My life is a gazillion moments, threaded together on a life-string.