In early August, when friends were grumbling about long security lines in airports or packing families into loaded-to-the-gills SUVs and taking to crowded Interstates, I climbed aboard Amtrak’s 90 Palmetto in Yemassee and settled into my comfortable seat to fulfil a dreamI’d had for years. As daylight came sneaking over the horizon, I chugged my way up the East Coast with plans to pop in on family and friends along the way.
Not part of the dream, tropical storm Debby was hot on my heels. That’s life; you make your plans, and when they change – because they often will – find an alternative and go with the flow. During those times, hope can be a great ally.
“Hope is confidence telling us we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be,” says Roger Gabriel, longtime associate of Deepak Chopra and the Chopra Center. “It reminds us that better times are always ahead and opens us to the opportunities waiting to lead us there. Hope gives us the power to do the impossible. (Remember…) our present situation is never our final destination.”
Words to the wise, indeed. A positive outlook can help also.
That persistent, rain-filled whirling dervish Debby allowed three cousins and me a terrific visit that included one entire sunny day’s exploration of the Smithsonian’s National Gallery of Art East Building before her torrents overtook me in Princeton, NJ, one of my several 1970s stomping grounds and my second stop. Longtime friends Susan and Allan had planned a day of visiting old haunts – The Nassau Inn, the Princeton Campus, Carnegie Lake, old softball fields. But due to those steady sheets of rain, we instead hunkered down in their cozy kitchen all afternoon catching up, rehashing old times, laughing, and sharing a pizza. I’ll always treasure that rainy day as an unexpected trip highlight.
Yet another change hid around the corner next day as I awaited my train to Penn Station. Dropping me off at Princeton Junction, Susan assured me my train would arrive any minute. The excitement of returning to the rails upped my adrenalin, and I became absorbed in watching trains and people, which spoke tiny stories all around me. The double-decker NJ Transits (NJT) that stop at every station between there and New York City were packed with commuters filling both levels of seats, and I wondered what riding on one might be like. Unintentionally, I soon found out. Distracted with writerly thoughts, I climbed aboard what I believed to be my train but realized too late I was seated on a top deck – which Amtrak does not have – surrounded by commuters. The doors shut and the train chugged ahead.
When a conductor passed through the car, I confessed my error, blaming it on Debby’s deluge. “Happens all the time,” she said with a smile, punched my ticket as if it were a NJT one, and moved along. Because we stopped at every town on the way to Penn Station, my connection had already left for Albany when I arrived. But those Amtrak agents were calm, knowledgeable superstars, and with only a two-hour delay, I was rattling north along the banks of the Hudson River.
Enter major change number three. Instead of pulling into Albany at two o’clock as planned, we rolled in at 5:15…the capital city’s rush hour…in near-monsoon rain…and I still had to take a cab to pick up my rental car. Which I did, and by dark, arrived at the home of Vermont cousins in Manchester, where that spoiler Debby hung out for two more days. But with years of life stories to catch up on, mountain roads to walk in foul weather gear, and four English Cream Golden Retrievers as the entertainment committee, the time fairly sped by.
All too soon, I’d turned in my rental car and was packed and waiting for an Uber pick up at 7:20 a.m. on a rainy Sunday morning for a ride to the Albany station to catch my train back to South Carolina, not expecting the big challenge that fell in my lap. At exactly pick-up time, Uber texted to tell me they hadn’t been able to find a driver and hoped this hadn’t inconvenienced me. Deep in “ready-to-leave” mode physically and emotionally, I suddenly felt out of options. Panic was creeping in, until a young cousin volunteered to drive me there.
Sometimes when change pops out of the blue – no matter the depth of your positive attitude – it takes a caring human connection to see you through. Thanks to my dear cousin Charlotte, I caught the 10 a.m. train and chugged back to Yemassee, filled with childlike excitement atwatching the backyards of America speed by. That night, the soothing clickety-clack of the railslulled me to sleep in my tiny roomette.
The changes mentioned in this “what I did on my summer vacation essay” are minor. But how do you navigate the sometimes-rocky shores of life when it throws you a major curve, say, the loss of a job, a divorce, a child failing in school, a serious illness or accident, a bankruptcy, or the necessity of an unexpected move to a new location?
As we know, these things happen. Always have. Always will. In the words of beloved Scottish poet, Robert “Robbie” Burns, “The best-laid schemes of mice and man gang aft aglay….”, i.e. often go awry. And it’s up to us to chart our course through the unexpected.
“Life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we react to it,” says Dennis Kimbro, New York Times bestselling author and expert on leadership, wealth, and success.
During times of change, it’s natural to experience a mix of emotions – excitement, sadness, anxiety, or confusion. The emotional impact can be profound, whether the change is positive or negative, expected or sudden. Try to maintain a clear perspective. Embrace uncertainty instead of being fearful. Stay motivated by celebrating your achievements along the way.
If you don’t already meditate, add this practice daily during your time of change. Write five things you’re grateful for each day in a gratitude journal. Talk to a trusted friend or a therapist, if need be. Be as gentle with yourself as possible.
And above all, be encouraged by the wise words of British writer, scholar, and theologian C.S. Lewis, “We’re never too old or too young to set a new goal or dream a new dream.”
Never….
