A few weeks ago, just as my husband and I were getting ready to head out the door, it started to rain. We had no choice but to leave just then and the rain was dampening our spirits. A bit of complaining ensued.
Today, as I was driving to Lowe’s to look at plants, I took my typical route down a relatively narrow street. A truck was parked on the side of the road and the oncoming traffic was steady. I had to wait.
Little inconveniences happen regularly. Some of us are more apt to notice them than others.
A year ago, I drove with my husband and friends down beautiful Cotswolds roads, frequently having to pull over to let an oncoming car pass, several times stopping short to narrowly miss a head-on meet and greet. The narrow roads were a feature of the quaint villages we were enjoying. Every twist and turn, every near miss, every friendly wave as we passed in close quarters, was just part of the adventure.
A couple months ago, in the height of summer, my husband, brother, and I took a weekend trip to New Orleans. We spent the morning in the World War II museum, then planned to wander the Garden District in the afternoon. As we headed to our second to the last building of the museum, it began to rain. Just a small shower. By the time we were leaving for the day, the shower had turned to a deluge. We climbed onto a hot, muggy trolley to the Garden District and popped into a cafe for a breather during the worst of the storm. Then, knowing our time was short, we wrapped up the best we could and began exploring in the rain.
We do things we normally wouldn’t when we travel. We embrace rain as just part of the day. We think of difficult driving conditions as nothing more than an adventure. We walk farther than we normally walk, try foods we would otherwise never try, appreciate the nooks and crannies that we might ignore were they in our hometown.
As I sat waiting for the oncoming cars to pass today, I thought about the Cotswolds and I thought about New Orleans. I thought about the many inconveniences I had determined to overlook, or even enjoy, for the sake of adventure and experience. And I wondered why we don’t do that in our day to day life.
How much different would our daily outlook be if we approached it as an adventure, as something to be cherished and enjoyed? Would we find pleasure, humor, or even joy in the little things?
To practicing the deliberate rhythm of a traveler’s attitude,