Escape

By Wendy Lee

May 7, 2017

 

“They” say that you should build a life that you don’t need to escape from. This sounds like sage advice.  Who can argue with the notion that you should create a life full of joy and meaning and happiness, one that keeps you quite content?

Yet, even then, we all need to shake up our routine sometimes, to chance upon new things, to adjust our attitudes, to reenergize our spirits, and to pinpoint areas needing our attention.  We need to hit the road and find the extraordinary in the ordinary.

Maybe it is incorrect to say that we are escaping.  Perhaps we are just perspectivizing – a new word to add to the Oxford American Dictionary.

I was in desperate need of perspectivizing. It had been a tough eighteen months, one in which I was terribly depressed, where I couldn’t seem to make a decision on where to live, and my job was squeezing the life out of me.  I also hated to admit that I was lonely, but it was very true.

Sometimes the universe conspires to help me out, and once in a while I actually pay attention to it. A turn of events meant that my vacation plans to travel to Reno had to be aborted, yet I still had time off from work scheduled.

I should have been practical.  There was plenty to do at home and at work.

This was no time to be practical.

Something more important was calling to me.  I needed a mini-adventure.  I needed to explore, to feed my curiosity, and to refresh my soul.

I landed on a trip to Arizona to see my beloved Los Angeles Dodgers play some Spring Training games.  I had always wanted to go to Spring Training yet never made it happen.  The timing was perfect to catch some of the last Spring Training games, and I vowed to explore and see where to road would take me.

Bags packed.  Check.  Dog dropped off at camp.  Check.  Full tank of gas.  Check.

Still, I hesitated.  I had so much to do at home.  Did I really want to take another trip on my own?

I powered through my doubt, up to the last minute, and pointed my car toward Phoenix.

Not far out of town, just over the Nevada border, the open road began whispering sweet somethings of peace at the end of the journey.  But I had to get through all of those troubling thoughts first.

The thoughts in my head were many, and exploded like popcorn, except that there was never ending supply.  I wish I could have grabbed one thought and just savored it for a few moments, even if the thought wasn’t my favorite.  Instead, it was a full explosion of angst and worry.  It was the fear of what the future holds, the seeming despair in how I got here to begin with, and a few too many regrets.  But I also had those fleeting outbursts of positive thoughts.  I wanted to stick with those, but they were crowded out too fast by the unproductive ones.

I had never made the drive before.  I researched so little about the drive that all I really knew was that I had to turn off somewhere past Kingman, Arizona to stay on US-93.

The drive from Kingman to Glendale was surprisingly scenic, for you are quickly in the hills covered with Joshua trees.  This drive was even more special though.  After a wet winter, the hills were bountiful with a carpet of wildflowers, mostly yellows with sprinkles of purples and reds.  There was no practical or safe place to turn off to get snapshots of the beauty, but I was a little thankful for that.  I worry that I sometimes spend too much time trying to capture a moment in digital form rather than actually feeling it.

Actually, I worry about everything.  It is a bad habit that I am trying to break.

There was such expanse on this sparsely inhabited road, that those thoughts and worries began escaping one by one into the hills.  With each mile on the secluded highway, the pressure built in my head was slowly being released.  I could actually feel it.

I arrived in Glendale just in time to see a Dodgers Spring Training game.  The energy around the park was electrifying.  There were loads of families there with young children, vying for an autograph from their favorite player.  I, myself, wore a Steve Yeager t-shirt, one that I had custom made just for this trip.  I was like a little kid, hoping to catch a glimpse of my favorite player of all time.

I soaked up that energy around me and vowed to enjoy every second of the experience.

I walked around the outer fields, and remembered so fondly my love of baseball, especially when growing up.  I laughed to myself as I remembered my childhood nickname of “snowcome” born of my parents’ involvement in Little League baseball.  I have memories so warm of hanging out at the ball fields first as a young child, and then later watching the Denver Bears minor league baseball games.

There is something extremely enjoyable about taking in a baseball game on a warm day.

Although quite hot in the sun-bathed seats, I simply relished the experience.  And I thought, and I thought, and I thought.

In my seat in the sun, I beat myself up pretty good for being so hard on myself.  Ironic, perhaps.  Although I always use that word incorrectly.

What the hell is so bad about me being who I am, anyhow?  Nothing, as it turns out.  I am a pretty okay sort of gal, and I need to remember that more than I forget it.

I did, in fact, love the baseball game.  Yet, I have to admit I was distracted with my thoughts.

I never did see Steve.  Bummer for me.  I guess I will need to head out to Dodgers Stadium again.  I hate when that happens.

The next day, I set out for a different kind of exploring.  It was a day trip to Prescott, Arizona.  Armed with just a few facts from a dear friend, I plotted my course and headed out again on the highway.  This time, the scenery was even more magnificent.  I didn’t think that was possible.  Again, rolling hills and a staggering amount of wildflowers.  On this road, though, the Joshua Trees has been replaced by Saguaro cacti. They greeted me warmly as I made my trek.

I found myself completely lost in the beauty, as if I had entered a lovely and whimsical painting.

I caught myself smiling, and recalled a conversation I had with my daughter a year or so ago.  As she struggled with a new move, I had shared something I heard from Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love).  Elizabeth said that in her darkest moments, she had to force herself to go out each day and find something of beauty.  It forced her to see good things in the world or the situation, and then good things just kept showing up.

I made myself a promise prior to embarking on this trip, that I was going to find lots of beauty, every day.  It was certainly showing up for me.

Upon arriving in Prescott, I saw the turn off for the lake my friend told me about and decided that would be my first stop.

Oh, how I have missed mountain lakes.

I hiked around Lynx Lake, and again, contemplated my life.  My short hike was going quite well, until I wandered off the path. I do that from time to time, which may have something to do with why my family and friends don’t like for me to hike alone.  For my brief jaunt off the footpath, I assure you that my only concern in the world was not if I am okay sort of person, rather it was whether I was going to be eaten by a bear.  I have a vivid imagination.

After a little backtracking and a slip into the water as I crossed two creeks, I found my way back to civilization quite easily.  No bears in sight.

Back to my contemplation in fairly short order.

I remember some of those thoughts in my head as I was walking around the lake. Wasn’t it okay to be a little sad sometimes?  Why did I worry so much that I had put back on a few pounds?  Why did it bother me to not have found the right relationship?  On this point, I laughed.

Yes.  Out loud.  On the trail.  By myself.

A comedian/motivational speaker (an odd, yet effective combination) talked about this in a lecture.  I can’t repeat his content, but he did demonstrate how some people are attracted to you and others just deflect off.  And thank goodness for those people who bounce off and find their way to someone else.   His comedy/motivational bit was quite entertaining, and it made me very thankful for those I have encountered that have gone on their way.  I am grateful, truly.

Why did I care that I was stepping down from my position at work, if such a move was actually going to relieve a lot of pressure in my life?  Why did I worry that it will take me years to get my new old house together, wasn’t that the fun of buying a property that I can personalize to my own tastes?

Those questions were some of the easy ones.

The end of the hike (more of a walk, than a hike) ended with crossing through the water again.

With wet shoes, I set-off after my hike to see the town square in Prescott, and specifically Whiskey Row.  I walked around the town, taking in quaint little shops and galleries.  I found a fun piece of art in one of the galleries, an ode to my love of old neon signs.  It was perfect for my new/old house.  I spent some time there speaking to two wonderful ladies in the gallery, talking of the art piece, volunteering at the Museum, and what brought me to town.

On the street, a gentleman stopped me and wanted to know why I didn’t have someone with me to carry this newly acquired piece of art.  I sheepishly admitted I was on my own, and he commented that he couldn’t understand why someone like me would ever be alone.  I am not quite sure what he meant.  It seemed rather random.  It puzzled me a bit, yet I laughed.

I ended my afternoon in Prescott with lunch at an old saloon and more conversation.

When I returned to the hotel in the early evening, I scoured the advertising brochures in the lobby to see if there was anything big I should take in before heading home.  There was.  Taliesin West, Frank Lloyd Wright’s western home and architecture school.

It doesn’t matter if you believe in fate or luck or good fortune, all I can say is that it felt like the brochure was waving at me while do a little dance.  “Look at me, look at me.”

I have been a Frank Lloyd Wright fan for many years.  I can’t say that as a person he was the best. Of course, I didn’t actually know him.  From what I have read about, he was a quite eccentric and more than a lot arrogant.  Still, it his designs and design philosophies that have spoken to me.

I had never toured one of his homes before, but I came close.  I visited Robie House in Chicago, but by the time we arrived it had closed for the day.  Still, I peered in all of the windows and took lots of pictures.  I also viewed a Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City that included some of his stained glass and furniture designs.

The next day, I decided to skip baseball and take in Taliesin West.  The setting was remarkable, nestled perfectly into the landscape.  The seamless transition between the outdoors and the indoors was remarkable.  I very much enjoyed hearing about Frank Lloyd Wright’s vision for his architecture.    I promised to visit more of both his personal homes and his incredible architecture throughout the country.

I have often said recently that I do not have a bucket list and don’t want one.  The reason is that there is so much that I want to do and to accomplish in this life, that I can’t possibly fit it all in.  I don’t want to look at a gigantic list and feel disappointed.  For argument sake, though, if I did have a bucket list it would include taking the Chicago FLW architecture tour, visiting his Oak Park office, seeing Taliesin, and seeing Fallingwater.

Upon returning to the hotel after my Taliesin West diversion, I knew it was time to go home.  While I was enjoying myself, it was also a little too much alone time.

The return home was as gorgeous as the beginning of the adventure.  I was happy I forced myself to explore.

With the return, came the perspective that I must simply be myself.  What others think of me, shouldn’t matter much.  Those who love me, love me for who I am.  I may be too complex for some, and not enough for others.  I might not look like a supermodel or athlete, I may be getting a bit older, I might view life differently than some, but I am pretty satisfied that I am a good person with much more to give to this world.

There is nothing to worry about.

If love is a currency, my life is filled with riches.