Pop!

There is always a good reason for not coming to do the next course for my DMin.  And the Festive Season and New Year brought reasons in spades.  Earlier this week I sat trying to figure out the logistics of attending this last January Intensive, and the more I tried to reason my way through it, the deeper in "stuck" I got.  Soon I was waist deep in stuck and sinking fast - and almost ready to throw in the towel.  Drastic situations call for drastic measures - so being unable to think my way through how to make this work, I instead stopped thinking about it and just got in my car and drove to California.

Pop!

Given the fact that I've lost my love of winter driving (despite being born and raised in Buffalo, NY), do not drive a snow plow or big truck, and have heard horror stories of the drive from Boise to the Bay Area in the wintertime,  I cannot believe that I did this.  But here I am, in a Travelodge in San Raphael - safe, breathing deeply, and thoroughly unstuck.

The drive was glorious, and exactly the medicine I needed!  I was born to live in the West (sorry, Buffalo).  Give me wide open spaces, sage brush and mountains, and I am a happy camper.  And there were moments when I was the only one on the road (bliss).  Nevada was the best - loved it!  It brought back memories from my teens of when I ditched whichever family members I was with in Vegas and took the rental car and drove towards the mountains!  I couldn't understand why anyone would waste their time in a casino when you had mountains to explore.  In fact, it was as I was crossing from Oregon to Nevada that I heard that signature loud popping sound  (you know the sound...like when you have a jar of jam and cannot open the lid, and you use the sharp end of a bottle opener to lift the edge of the lid until you hear the loud pop indicating that the seal is broken and the lid can be easily unscrewed).  With that "pop" came a deep breath, and the realization that I was no longer stuck!

Best Road Sign:  Chicken Dinner Road (outside of Marsing in Idaho)
Most Ridiculous Speed Limit:  Oregon (Really? 55 mph going through the Jordan Valley?  Why?  Even the livestock laugh at the cars rolling past in slow motion)!
Most Civilized Speed Limit:  Nevada and parts of Idaho (anything less than 75 mph in the middle of nowhere is just plain silly)
Important Lesson Learned:  There is minimal FM radio from Jordan Valley to Winnemucca.  Bring more CDs
Most Outrageous Radio Evangelist:  The guy who tried to explain how Joseph (in the Hebrew Scriptures) is actually a pre-figuring of Jesus, and that Joseph's management of the famine in Egypt (by taking the livestock, land, and enslaving the people) is meant to show how Jesus wants us to hand over all our stuff and our lives to him.  Wait a minute...might this be a next year's stewardship campaign...
Friendliest Person:  Cashier at the Sawtooth Gas Station and Mart just before Winnemucca

This is close to the most impulsive thing I have ever done.  I confess that this sense of unstuckness - this sense of freedom - leaves me almost giddy.  My sore knee keeps me from dancing, but I am happy dancing inside.  I was even happy dancing in the car - there were times when I would get pop radio stations, and so happy dancing got me through all the verses of "American Pie" (twice), the endless fascination one station had with Janet Jackson (Nasty Station), and even found a way to accompany a pop song by Anna Nalick.

Deep breath - big sky - miles of wild - horses, cattle, calves, and goats - stretches of time with no signs of civilization except for the road beneath me.  There were places where there were no power lines or fences - just wide open spaces.  And peace.  Good medicine.  Good prayer time.

Just breathe - thank you, Anna.  But I have to disagree - we can jump the tracks - we are not cars on a cable.

Sometimes, when you can't reason you way through a situation, and what you normally do isn't working, you just have to trust your heart, jump the tracks, and see what happens.

Unstuck is what happened here.

Happy Dancing in San Raphael,
Kim