New Jersey Morning

Am I allowed to post on the trip blog when I'm technically on a trip from our trip?

For the past month or so I'd felt that the days were passing more quickly, and as it seemingly got closer to the end of our trip (with summer approaching), I found myself looking more to the future than the present. What will we do when our money runs out? Where will we end up? What kind of jobs will we find? Rather than letting these questions pass through my mind, I clung on to them, probably causing distress to both Colin and myself.

Then last night I experienced culture shock upon returning to New Jersey. Is New Jersey really so different from the rest of the country or have we been visiting just the unusual pockets of the United States? The shock made me realize the greatness of our trip and reminded me why we set out on it in the first place. New Jersey is not the norm and the lifestyle most enjoy here is not a standard to force yourself to live up to or maintain. It is simply one way of life. And if that way of life doesn't feel right to you, you find ways to change it. On our trip, we have been inspired by so many people and so many different landscapes that it would be impossible to ever return to New Jersey as the same couple we were living the same life we did.

For example, my shower last night in the home I grew up in did not feel as magnificent as the $0.75 four-minute shower I took two days ago at a campground outside Seattle. My bed did not feel as soft and comfortable as I imagined it would. I missed the woods and I missed Colin & Tucker terribly. And sadly, despite having everything I need in life, I went to sleep with a complaining voice in my head. I was trying to compare the beauty our trip to the sudden feeling of returning to a life in Mendham, New Jersey that is no longer mine.

Today I woke up at 5:15 am when the sunlight came streaming through the window and went downstairs to find a yoga mat. Instantly I knew I couldn't practice inside. Days and days of practicing outside had gotten to me in a good way. I laid down a mat to practice on the back patio and listened to the chatter of birds mixed with the rush of cars as I sat down for meditation. I didn't have snow-capped mountain views, but I was grateful for the sun, the warm humid air, and for not having to wear furry boots and a down jacket to keep warm during savasana. I was humbled by this simple pleasure, and the negativity of last night washed away.

This morning's practice made me remember that you can be content anywhere and you can complain anywhere. I trust that wherever we end up will be perfect.