I was up until 2 a.m. this morning prepping for a third meander that seemed unlikely just six hours earlier. Forget the flight to Seattle I had booked for next week. I threw together last summer’s meander in days. I could prep for this one in hours and be on the California coast by sundown.
Why? Because I got dumped last night.
I suppose the breakup wasn’t entirely unexpected. It’s been a trying few weeks. I’ve caught myself breathing deeply to calm my nerves throughout recent workdays and I was pretty sure it wasn’t due to work stress.
I responded by returning to my yoga mat, doubling down on my journaling, and even resuming my spiritual reading. (I tore through Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl in two sittings!)
In the end, I was proud of how I showed up in the relationship.
On the road again
Phoenix summers aren’t so bad once the sun goes down.
Now, my car is sitting in the driveway halfway packed. My camping gear is organized and ready to roll. But, at around 2 a.m., with the adrenaline of an unexpected opportunity to meander exhausted, I ran out of steam.
I tried to psych myself up this morning. After all, I could be on the coast by nightfall and (after a few days of work) among the Redwoods by end of week.
I resumed packing. I laid clothes out on the bed. I emptied my kitchen cabinets.
My second wind lasted about 10 minutes. My heart just wasn’t in it. I didn’t want to spend the next two days driving through the California desert. I didn’t want to spend the next two weeks alone on the road. (Although there’s no better place to face the fear of being alone than on a long solo trip.)
I chose instead to indulge the conclusions that I reached at the end of my spring break solo trip to Arches.
I wanted to tie up loose ends at work, including a fun temp gig with a hospitality tech startup. I wanted to see through some awesome planned social events like my going away party – which just wouldn’t be the same without the guy who’s going away.
And I wanted to process this loss properly rather than running into a Redwood forest and away from the fear of being alone.
A Sign from Above
I heard someone say once that if God wanted to send him a message he hoped it was delivered with a two-by-four. As if my lack of energy for a third meander wasn’t a clear enough sign, my car failed to start this morning when I attempted to drive to Cartel to write this blog post.
I biked instead. It was hot.
Some people think I hate Phoenix summers. I’ll admit that they’re not ideal. However, I do love weekend mornings in air-conditioned yoga studios and coffee shops, amazing sunsets on bike rides around Tempe Town Lake, and the smell of the desert during monsoon season.
I haven’t been in Arizona during a monsoon since 2012. It’ll be nice to finally experience that magical time of year again.
Of course, monsoon season won’t be in full swing until August. Fortunately, I can wait for its arrival in Seattle. I’ll just get there like most people would this year – by airplane.
A decent place to wait for monsoon season …