Driving 2,500 miles in 4.5 days was no small feat. My husband, Jerry, and I drove in our separate cars with 11 bonsai plants from California to Florida, to begin this new chapter of our lives. Although driving two cars just to spare the plants seemed a bit eccentric, we wanted these precious 40 to 60 year-old plants to have the best chance of surviving the move. So we simply said we would make the long trip, taking it one day at a time.

It was a demanding trip. We were both tired before we began the trip: I had attended a one-week intensive meditation retreat until the day before we left; Jerry had completed the rest of the packing for the movers while I was gone. Friends were voicing concerns for us: the heat would be deadly; our fatigue and boredom could be serious problems. And of course, there was the three-day trip across Texas. We took all the precautions to heart and asked ourselves: how do we make this a valuable part of our transition from the “endings” we would experience in leaving California, to the “beginnings” before us in Florida?

First, we did everything we could to take care of ourselves. We ate properly to avoid sleepiness and took our time; we added in breaks; we talked frequently on our cell phones, asking how the other one was doing, recommending radio stations we had found or pointing out the surprises in the landscapes.

I also found myself marveling at the technology that supported our trip. Not only could we stay in touch with each other through our cell phones, but our wonderful friends called us along the way to keep us company. The luxury of air conditioning, reliable cars and wireless internet in our hotels allowed us to travel comfortably and stay in touch with friends and colleagues.

The landscapes continued to fascinate me. Within the sparseness of the desert were the simplicity and survival of hardy plants and scorching sand. In the southern states were the vibrancy and lushness of green vegetation and mysterious swamps. And in between the dreaded three-day trip through Texas appeared a multiplicity of vistas complemented by huge blue skies and an endless gathering of white clouds.

Our experiences with people touched us as well. One young woman in particular at the front desk of a hotel in Louisiana wanted to be sure we had everything we needed, including the fresh cookies she had baked. Management had instructed her to stop baking them for guests, but she simply thought that offering them in the late afternoon was a treat for tired guests. They were chocolate chip, too—my favorite.

The weather was fascinating, too. Late afternoon thunderstorms, although unnerving, were a blessing, since they cooled down the air enough so that we could leave the bonsais in the car. After our first night’s stop, we didn’t have to unpack the plants the rest of the trip. I learned what a real cloudburst was, too. I could watch the wall of rain thundering ahead of me, and as I penetrated that wall, the roar and wetness swallowed the car. I found myself gasping at the humidity as we left our cars and took our breaks, and realized that the gasp was not only surprise but my resistance to the waves of unfamiliar and intense heat. I found that if I entered the heat with more openness, it was less shocking and more familiar. I allowed myself to be immersed in it and treasured the air conditioning of every place I entered!

More than anything, though, Jerry and I had this ongoing experience of wonder and gratitude. Although I had overall fatigue, I found myself appreciating the trip—I had never driven a car across the country before. In spite of a cracked windshield, the glass held up in the thunderstorms. The bonsais were slightly in shock but made the trip fairly well. Jerry’s caring for me, continually checking to see how I was feeling and how long I felt I could drive, was reassuring and comforting. I felt enormous gratitude for his concern, his determination for us not to do more than we could handle, and his grit in doing whatever we needed to do to make the trip carefully and safely. Our mission to take on our new life, new commitments, and new callings had motivated this expedition, and our love and fortitude guided every mile of the way. I had no doubt in my own heart that by taking each part of the trip one day at a time—inconveniences and opportunities, difficulties and blessings, road construction and open highway—we had made the trip not just something to hurry through, but to savor and appreciate as one more blessing on our life’s journey.

In addition to her spiritual practices, Susan R. Quinn of the Quinn Company has been an independent consultant and trainer since 1978. She specializes in facilitation of problem solving for teams and groups in conflict. She is certified to train using the DiSC Personal Profile System. Her other best-received training programs are “Dealing with Difficult People,” “Managing Conflict,” and “Learning to Live in the Eye of the Hurricane.” She also offers values clarification workshops and strategic planning services in partnership with her husband, Jerry. To subscribe to her business ezine, go to www.thequinncompany.com. You can reach Susan at the Quinn Company, 246 Via Presa, San Clemente, CA 92672, (949) 366-5890, or email susan@thedeepestspirituallife.com.

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