We have returned from five days travel along the California coast.
After first joining our son and daughter-in-law in their San Francisco Bay Area home, the four of us–five if you count their high-energy pup, Obi– headed for points further north.
When we get on the road and begin to shift from daily routines we often make references to being “unplugged.”
I suppose that turning off a computer and keeping my cell phone slightly less than in reach isn’t precisely living “off the grid,” but I do try to edit my news and media intake.
This past Friday afternoon, as we traveled into the beauty of Marin County, Jay asked if I’d like to switch from the commercial free music we were streaming to find some talk radio. “Do you want to hear what’s been going on in the world?”
My answer, “Not really!”
But within a minute or two of my response, proof of just how connected we really are, phone apps started blaring alerts. Something horrible had happened in France.
We fumbled for adequate radio reception and it didn’t take long for reality to settle in as we grappled to understand the shocking details of the reports from Paris.
So far from home, yet social media has made the world so much more intimate.
I immediately began thinking, and with great concern, of my European blogging friends, several with homes in France.
The visit with our children was wonderful. The beauty of the Northern California Coast– intoxicating. Having an opportunity to be outside of the worries and concerns that always exist is a gift.
These aren’t easy times. We are barraged by observations, opinions and reports, and it’s a challenge to stay aware of events as they hold importance, yet at the same time silence and reject the noise that turns tragedy into political opportunity.
But I want to know that you are well.
Now that I’ve returned home I plan to resume my evening “blog reading time,” and I hope to find you in the middle of ordinary days. Days with healthy routines that haven’t been disturbed. Schedules that might not be exciting, but are peace-filled. For those of us fortunate to have our relative well-being undisturbed–thanksgiving.
Right about now, I place a great deal of value on ordinary days.