“New” Toys
I was a nanny for 3 years, and I would regularly hide a few toys from the kids, only to bring them out as a “surprise” a week or so later. The little ones would squeal with delight from discovering their “new” toys. I never told them they were getting new toys, I would just set them back in the mix and when they noticed the toys in the basket they would be elated.
James, Sherman and I just returned from a just three days shy of a two month long road trip around the country. We intended to stay in our truck-bed camper “Campy” over 50% of the time, but fell shy of that goal by about 20%…30%…maybe 46% (wink, wink). Those Hotels.com deals and their ever so tantalizing stamps you can collect for future free night stays, were all too tempting on those slumpy afternoons from a long day of driving. (Not to mention the greasy hair and not-so-clean skin of the drivers)
After doing quite a bit of travel since I was little, I feel like my tolerance for the unknowns that accompany travel is quite high - I’m used to canceled flights, missing flights, long train rides, missing trains, terrible hotel rooms, sleeping on cots, sleeping during long long layovers, not sleeping, you name it. But this trip made me feel like I’ve become quite soft and less tolerant of the unknown or harder situations like I used to be… or, maybe I just have never done anything in my travels quite like what I experienced on the open road.
Our time on the road included lots of beautiful and amazing adventures, time with loved ones, time connecting out in the wild, luxury hotels, far-from-luxury hotels, camping, and everything in between. It was also chock-full of unknowns - where will we sleep? What will we eat? How will we get there? Will we ever do our laundry? Will the route have cell service so we can work on the road? Or will we need to find a coffee shop with wifi along the route? Is the water potable? Are there showers? Do the showers make you feel cleaner afterwards than you did before taking one? :)
(I feel compelled to note here, that I know there are so many experiencing houseless-ness right now…and while we chose to take this grand adventure, it gave me a small glimpse into what that might feel like, albeit a very chosen and privileged version of it…. I’d like to write out some further reflections on this in the future)
But now, we’re home. We pulled up and our dark house which looked like a forgotten acquaintance - foreign but yet familiar… and we were all so happy to be there. Sherman bolted up to the door and ran gleefully all around the yard, through the house, up the stairs and back again. James and I went in, turned on the lights, and looked around with a bit of awe. We checked to make sure everything was okay, we hugged in the driveway and reflected on how it was such a great trip and we were so glad to be home. We then started pulling out things that we’d missed or that mattered to us, and made us feel at home. I retrieved my engagement ring out of locked storage and put it on my finger, excited to have it back on. I then played a few notes on the piano, thankful to be back at the keys. I made tea in the electric kettle. I then dug through the storage closet to find my plush robe.
After donning my beloved robe, I was just about to say to James “Guess what I found??!!” and show him my robe, but then I realized he had already pulled his out too! HAHA. Well, at least we’re predictable and know what we’ll be like in a few decades.
And as I showered, just the way I like it, with the steam filling the room and the fan off, (which drives James nuts I might add) I was in awe of the water pressure coming through the shower head, and it felt like I was experiencing it for the first time.
James and I were like little kids, looking around so aware and so thankful for what we have, as if it was all brand “new,” like the toys of the little ones I used to care for.
And I don’t mean to make this sound like the material things around us are what’s important… it’s more a reflection on the link between attention & gratitude - how that attentiveness to the little things can create a sincere and deep gratitude. Which can make a functioning shower head feel like bliss.
P.S. As promised, here’s an image of where I’m musing from. I started this musing last night, but then fell asleep almost mid-writing I was so tired. Finishing up today…
