Packing was no problem. I'd already
completed
that
interestingly,
painstakingly, carefully discriminating task days ago. I rearranged
things (just as I would have before any other departure) ensuring
they'd be just
the way
I like them when I return. I looked around one more
time
(just as I would have before any other departure) to see if I'd
missed anything. Then I locked the door behind me,
wondering
what I'd find when I return (which I've never done before any other
departure), and slowly
walked
to my car,
got
in and set off down Hillside
Drive
calmly and
ordinarily
as if I was
driving
to the village to do an errand.
Flames
in my rearview
mirror
starkly underscored a
past
which until just a few meagre days earlier, was never going to have
been there. Now they dictated an unwavering order for an impelling
future
which was also once never going to
happen.
Here's what's
interesting:
that
future
is one which is now given to me, and yet I'll still have to
invent
it out of
nothing.
I had already begun contemplating
images
of the phoenix rising out of her ashes - but it's too
soon for that, yes? There are other things which will
have to come first. And even though I'm not yet
clear
what they will be, it's 1,000% certain they're
coming
my
way.
Driving
the first thirty miles out of the
Napa Valley
along that one last
open
road
together with everyone else who'd also exceeded their critical risk
tolerance level and were also leaving, took two hours. Then, three
hours after that, I noticed a strange smell
coming
into my car. So I rolled down the
window
trying to determine what it was. It was
fresh air!
Just
fresh
air.
Delighted, I breathed lungfuls of it over and over and over again,
like someone who'd just traversed the Sahara desert on foot may
gulp
fresh water
... and that's when I really knew things were going to
be alright. I reached
Santa Barbara
two hours later where
my daughter Alexandra
had left a key to her place for me, took a shower, lay down on the
couch, and immediately fell
asleep
for almost twenty four hours
straight.
It was one of the best
sleeps
I've ever
experienced
in my entire life.
Santa Barbara
on any occasion is a great place to be. I'm in no hurry to leave.
Much of what I do in the
Napa Valley
is contingent on showing visitors around the
wine country,
a
business
which for obvious reasons is now (temporarily) on hold. This is a
good
time
to stay, a good
time
to enjoy
Santa Barbara,
to enjoy every proud
parent's
fulfilling
"three sixty": being hosted by their own
children,
and to
write
here and conduct my
business
from here for while. I could
get
used to this. Seriously.
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