Springer's Journey

I woke up this morning, made a cup of coffee, and sat down with a book.

A book.

ARE YOU SERIOUS??!! A BOOK?!

I used to devour books. Somewhere along the way, life got busy. Cell phones appeared. There was always something to check, somewhere to go, something that needed my attention.

And then Cora broke down.

For those who haven’t been following along, Cora is my 2013 Subaru Outback and trusted traveling companion. Her alternator decided it had contributed quite enough to Springer’s Journey, thank you very much.

The repair isn’t cheap. Nearly $800.

And because of circumstances surrounding all of this, what I originally thought was going to be a short interruption has turned into nearly a month of sitting still.

I wasn’t particularly pleased about that.

This was a forced stop.

Except…

I’m beginning to wonder if it was.

During this “forced stop,” I’ve had time to learn more about Cora. I’ve started putting together what I’ll need to camp more simply and inexpensively. I’ve researched places I might never have discovered if I’d simply kept driving.

This morning I discovered that, because I’m over 62, I can buy a $20 annual federal Senior Pass that may save me money at some of the very federal campgrounds I’ve been researching.

Twenty dollars.

I nearly heard Cora say, You’re welcome.

We’ve also been preparing for a new member of the traveling crew—a tiny kitten who doesn’t have an official name yet, although I’ve temporarily been calling her Dot. We’re figuring out carriers, cooling mats, toys and how to introduce her gently to this rather unusual life.

And this morning, I sat outside with my coffee and opened Dan Brown’s Origin.

For no particular reason.

I didn’t need information from it. I wasn’t researching the next campground. I wasn’t checking the weather. I wasn’t figuring out mileage or repairing something.

I was reading because I wanted to read.

My friend Professor Headquarters said something to me:

“Nothing needs to happen next.”

I stopped when I read that.

Nothing needs to happen next.

What an extraordinary idea.

I’ve spent so much of my life thinking about what comes next. The next responsibility. The next problem. The next destination.

Even this journey began with movement. Go somewhere. See something. Keep going.

But perhaps a journey isn’t always measured in miles.

Maybe sometimes being unable to move forward geographically gives us enough stillness to figure out how we actually want to move forward.

I thought Cora’s breakdown had interrupted Springer’s Journey.

Now I’m beginning to think this is Springer’s Journey.

I’m learning how to live with less urgency. I’m researching. Planning. Watching birds. Preparing for a kitten. Rediscovering books.

And drinking my coffee before it gets cold.

The road will still be there when Cora is ready.

So will I.

For now, it’s a beautiful Saturday morning. The sun is shining. There’s coffee beside me and a book in my hands.

And nothing needs to happen next.

☀️☕📚❤️

Polished with help from ChatGPT, who understands Mayday Murphy far better than any reasonable being should.