Hitting the Road

My car arrived from Connecticut this past Monday.  I hadn't realized how much I missed the little gal until I had her back, covered in 3,000 miles worth of tawny filth.  The huge transport truck stopped on a busy highway on-ramp because it couldn't make any of the turns in town. We rushed through the exhange of cash and signatures, the driver wiped my windows and mirrors clean(ish), and we were both off again in under seven minutes! 

My first stop:  the "soft touch" car wash.  It took two times through to see my car in its original shiny black state - and you couldn't wipe the smile from my face.

The wheels definitely add some balance to life "at home."  I've had a wonderful first week in California spending time with my mom - we hiked the gorgeous canyon trails above the river at South Yuba State Park (the wildflowers are at the tail of their peak), organized my living space, ran more errands than I can count, and talked each others' ears off.  It's been lovely.  However, after living solo for fifteen years - it is good to have the option to take off on my own for a while.

So yesterday I did just that.  I went town-hopping all day and got lost on purpose.  Though I find myself exhausted each night, I know that it is from taking in so many new views, directions, people and details.  To be present and aware of everything around me is the best kind of living. It is exhilerating and in dramatic contrast to driving to work on auto-pilot each day.  The trick for me, a notorious "dabbler" who tends to bounce around a bit, will be to find that balance between change and consistency, adventure and stability, so that I can keep the feeling alive while I'm standing still. Because Life's constantly shifting energy is what makes for the wild ride - if we pay attention.
So... as for California:

Before the plane even landed in Sacramento, I could tell things would be different.  My seatmate, a young photographer and surfer (yes, this cliche was the REAL DEAL!), was a certified card-carrying member of the "medicinal marijuana" club.  OK, so clearly it's not a club - I don't have the lingo down just yet.  He showed me the "pass" that he was prescribed for his case of TMJ, and I said, "Really.  Really??!  So you're saying that instead of wearing my fabulously chic mouthguard every night - I could just eat a brownie?"  Who knew.

And of course there are other well-worn stereotypes here in Northern California.  Everyone does seem to be exceptionally friendly, laid back and service oriented. If you enter the local Save Mart Grocery, you better bring your poker face, because to look lost or perplexed, even for a moment, brings one or more employees ready to assist you to the proper aisle. Judging from recent experience, my standard look is lost and perplexed.

Yes, there are abundant dreadlocks, smart cars and food co-ops... as well as an equally visible contingency of bearded men in pick-up trucks, whose dogs likely vote Republican.  I've found the local Officers of the Peace a little up-tight too. Jaywalking, for instance, is seriously frowned upon in Nevada City.  More accurately, it is scowled upon with a look of crazy intimidation and total disgust. Oops.  

So as I acclimate to my new surroundings, I begin to think about what's next... job, destination, vision and life plan.  I'll start by looking back a little ways - because some of the best dreams are the ones that you've had forever.  And I'll take it in small bites, as my dear friend suggests.  Half of the fun is on the path... I promise to keep you posted along the way!