Travel with General Mc.Arthur’s philosophy – “I came through and I shall return”.
The more I read Rick Steves, the more I feel like I have a like-minded friend travelling with me. He is as organized as my crazy brain wants the world to be, and he has the cutest maps. Score!
This blog will be a collection of anything I find interesting. Something I learnt. Something that made me laugh. Something beautiful. Something that saddened me. Something that made me ponder.
A day-to-day account will exist, but it will be more for me than for anyone else. Maybe I’ll post a link if I’m overwhelmed at some point 🙂
Photos will be around; again, I might post a link in between. These will be random because I don’t have a method to the madness yet. Those who know me know that I love my captions more than my photos, so they will come when the captions come.
Update: For once, Los Angeles was synonymous with celebrities and devout fans; it was a whee moment!
Flash back to the present:
(unconnected writing alert!)
One gets weary of looking forward all the time. So today, I’m going to take the advice of all the happiness gurus and live in the moment – which is currently 5 inches of beautiful powdery snow sitting pretty.
After winter storm Orion came down hard last night, the ground is a sparkling carpet of white which hides where the sidewalk ends and the road begins. How hard will it be to walk around, I thought; and stepped out to walk to work. Within two minutes, I was fearful of injuring a third part of my lower limbs, having underestimated the absence of a snow plow truck in this ill equipped part of the world.
But it was glorious! There was an already tread path ahead of me that I could follow with just enough confidence that I won’t step off the sidewalk or into a ditch. As I walked, I smiled ruefully as I recounted the life and work battles in my head the last year about following paths that others had laid out before me. I had walked this path enough times to navigate the few stretches where the steps branched but I had to go another way. It taught me to be grateful for expertise; however small I think mine is, it will show its usefulness on a day I need it the most. It was deathly silent, broken only by the scrunching of a stray car – and the squeal of a child racing down a tiny neighbourhood hill in a homemade toboggan. Sometimes, it’s a skill to pick what is meaningful in the silence of the surroundings and the chatter in my head.
It’s true. Living in the present can dole up whammies every now and then. Pretty whammies. Or maybe it’s the snow. From a storm coincidentally called Orion. Either way, I’ll take it!