Sliding to a stop!

Landing and sliding to a stop.

In Oklahoma we stopped at the Cowpoke Café- a tiny diner in the middle of nowhere, just off Interstate 40. It was the only building within view…and out there the “view” covers a lot of territory- hundreds of miles. A wiry waitress made us a fresh pot of coffee, and while we waited, we spent five bucks in one of those machines that delivers a little plastic toy- and never the one you want. The contents of this machine were a variety of “Trailer Park” people- the fat guy in the Barca lounger with a remote in his hand, a boy with a banjo, a teenage girl pumping gas (the prize we didn’t get), a scrappy man with a mullet, and a wiry waitress with an apron, among others.
“My daughter says that’s me NOW, and the fat lady with the broom is me in 10 years! HA!” our waitress said with a cigarette-y laugh. “NEVER!” we said, laughing with her. She loved the little people too. My friend Bill Georgenes is an artist, here in Santa Fe, and creates these incredible wall hangings that look like little Hindu shrines. He takes all kinds of small found objects, wire, fake flowers, plastic soldiers, animals, superheroes, dinosaurs, etc. and makes these intricate 3D constructions with them- then spray paints them gold, or silver. They are roughly 12”x12” but are also a foot deep. He will love these little guys.
Cary and I get our coffee and head back out on the road with a big thank you to the waitress for the fresh java, and we head west. About 2 hours east of Amarillo we pull into a motel, where the dog stretches every muscle in his body, in all directions, and examines our quarters for the night. So far every “pet approved” room we’ve had has been clean, odor free, and with the exception of one bedspread covered in white dog hair, very nice. Traveling with a dog has improved in this country. It’s been a long day with over 7 hours on the road so we feed the hound, and kick back to watch the evening news and the weather forecast. Ahhhhh…the weather forecast. Cary and I look at each other. Apparently, at the New Mexico/Texas border the incoming blizzard will turn to freezing rain and ice. We compare notes: in 4 hours we could be at the border…getting stuck in Texas/Oklahoma means we’ll be stuck here for days and days. So we check out, pack up the car, and the dog dolefully climbs back in. Westward ho! Around 11 pm we pull into what turns out to be our home away from home for the next few days: The Quality Inn of Tucumcari, New Mexico. 3 Hours from Santa Fe.
By dawn the snow is flying sideways and the Interstate is a total mess. Along with a dozed Fed Ex drivers who’ve parked their big rigs out back, a young army family with a 10 day old baby, and an odd assortment of other travelers, we settle in for the wait. Luckily the motel has a restaurant and bar, and one snow shovel. Only about 3 employees and the cook make it to work- so everyone pitches in. It’s kind of like Gilligan’s Island! Everyone gives up trying to figure out when to leave, because now the Interstate is closed in both directions. A motel employee shovels the front steps, one shovel width wide, and out 2’ from the bottom step. After that it is a complete white out: Siberia. Hilarious!
There’s heat, food, WiFi, a bar, and a lot of fun people. There are 2 decks of cards that we know about…and there’s always charades…..

"Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth" P.C.

There is a Pema Chodron story I love. Before she became a Buddhist monk, when she was married, her husband told her she was the bravest person he had ever met. "ME?" she said. "I'm afraid of EVERYTHING!" He replied "Yes- but you do it anyway."

Deirdre Blomfield-Brown (aka Pema Chodron) went to my boarding school. Being a Miss Porter's girl, I like to think her ability to reconcile fear with forward movement had to do with experiences at our alma mater. Maybe something in our shared training will come in handy during the next few months. I've been too caught up in cleaning up/re-painting the house inside for Christmas, and planning meals for masses to spend any time at all pondering my upcoming adventure. Good. Maybe I won't go through the fear and panic part.

Nah. Today my son Dave told me he's going back to college tomorrow. Tomorrow??!!! He wasn't supposed to leave til the 8th! I tell myself that the best thing a mother can hope for is that her children love their lives- and are eager to engage, and that for Dave to be itching to get "home" to his apartment a week or two before his classes start up is a great thing! I practice telling myself this as I phone my pal Laurie, wipe my nose and eyes, and try to stop gasping. For weeks I've had a house full of laughter, cooking smells, dirty dishes, overflowing recyclables (beer bottles and Xmas paper debris) and other signs of family life. This week it goes back to just me and the animals, and the list of things to do before I leave on the 21st.

I warned Laurie last week while we were making latkas for our kids (who grew up together) that a tidal wave of panic might set in after the holidays- and she'd better be ready to calm me down. She- whose darling son is home for a few weeks from a year-long stint in Indonesia - understands. What have I gotten myself into with this "adventure" out west??? What was I thinking- going to some town where I have 2 acquaintances,and a list of people to ring up- friends of friends. Cold calls. ARGH. Where I will be far from all 4 children, sisters, mother. I remind myself I have a list of yoga classes to sign up for, knitting circles, a dog park to visit, jazz venues, Sierra Club hikes with dogs, galleries to explore, and projects to do. I remind myself I am going for 3 months- not 3 years. There is an airport, telephones, e-mail. I love Santa Fe. I think. That's what I'm going to find out.

What's so scary? Loneliness? No. Been there, done that. Being far from the familiar? From my reliable resources? Getting closer. I remind myself that 'familiar' doesn't necessarily mean 'good'. Been there, too. I play the "name the monster" game: What is the WORST thing that could happen? Most of what I come up with is not that terrible or unresolvable. The few doozies I come up with could happen whether or not I'm here- and I just refuse to live in an incapacitating state of fear. Pema's talking to me.

Ok, I'm breathing again. I'm chuckling at myself and shaking my head. I go online and look at the pictures of the casita I'm renting. There are walking trails right out the back door, and it looks like the kitchen windows face East- nice. I wonder if that door in the larger bedroom leads out into the garden?