“It is good
to have an end to journey towards,” wrote Ursula LeGuin, “but it is the journey
that matters in the end.”
More than
any other thing on this trip, that has held true for us. We’ve never traveled more than 125 miles in
one day, a couple of hours or maybe three on the freeway; but sometimes it’s
taken us as much as ten hours to cover a meager 50 miles on the bicycle routes
we’ve followed. And that has come to be
the norm for us.
Winding back
roads have taken us past bison farms and waterfalls, rolling hills have had us
all sucking on lollipops to ward off motion sickness, and ridiculously curving
mountain trails have had us (well mostly me) grimacing as we picture Daddy
racing along those downhills.
But most of
all it’s the lives we’ve seen on those rural routes that have engendered some
the most amazing conversations I’ve ever had with my kids.
I’ve had
serious heartfelt discussions with my thirteen and nine year olds about the
causes and results of poverty, about how hard it is to properly train a dog, about
farming techniques and advances, about how businesses survive or fail, about
why some schools start and end at different times, about the politics of
everything, about why I don’t like celery (an experience with those strings at
a very early age), about the profound influence of weather, about the causes of
the Civil War and from there about the causes of other wars, about why I insist
they brush their teeth two times a day, about terrorism both against and by the
United States, about the plight of the Native Americans and its history, and
about whether we’re going to find gas before our tank hits empty.
What we
forgot during our journey on the roads less travelled is that most likely very
close by there was a freeway on which thousands of travelers not so very
different from ourselves were whizzing to their destinations at 75 miles an
hour with nothing to inspire dialogue but the posts signaling each exit. In the past few days our routes have more and
more often taken us on those ten lane behemoths for at least part of our trip.
So lately
we’ve talked about how much we don’t like highways.
We’ve slowed
down and those super-handy, super-fast super-highways have become too
supercharged for our mellowed sensibilities.
Oh, I know
it’s one of those things that will fade in the next few weeks – probably,
sadly, even quicker – but I’m a person who struggles against change so I’m
feeling the need to make a gradual reentry into the fast paced world of
northeastern suburbia. The children, as
children are wont to do, are handling the transition much better; and each
reminder of the high-speed existence we’re returning to gets them more and more
excited to get back to their normal lives.
I don’t know
if it’s possible in the place we live, but I’m hoping I can bring a little of
that byway unhurriedness into our day-to-day.
I’m not sure how to go about it, but I need to strive for it. That’s definitely one of the life-changes I’m
hoping to get from this saga.
Wish me
luck.
To learn more about Connor's Army go to www.ConnorsArmy.org
To see exactly why we're doing this go to www.SunriseDayCamp.org
To make a tax deductible donation go to https://www.wizevents.com/register/register_add.php?sessid=1809&id=1056
No comments:
Post a Comment