Walk through the woods complete, we load up. Head out to explore and restock the necessities – food, books and postcards.
Rolling down the gravel road, I try to keep track of things we pass, make a mental note of landmarks at each intersection for use on the return. It’s not that I couldn’t pull up directions on the map, but it’s the principle of it. Of working to be a decently aware navigator.
Cruising down main street, I pull into the same parking spot I used at lunch yesterday. Unlatch Baylor, slide sunglasses on, look left and right. Which way should we go? Baylor cocks his head, turns. Okey dokey, left it is.
From the prevalence of shops peddling gear or candy, it’s evident that Blue Ridge thrives on an influx of outdoorsmen and tourists each season. Walking past a tiny market cafe, I park Baylor out front, head inside. Seeing a bowl full of colorful eggs my excitement level grows. Having backyard chickens in Seattle ruined me for the standard grocery story egg. Pale and tasteless compared to rich and vibrant. Normally I’d just longingly stare at these local hen gems, but since we’ve a cabin-loan I get a dozen. Cradle them carefully and walk out grinning.
Wandering through a gift shop, I look for the rack of postcards. Pause, tempted at the shelf of puzzles. The 90-year-old grandma in me loves having a puzzle table going, especially as the holiday season approaches. I blame my puzzle-conquering Great Grandma Tillie for this infliction. Shaking my head I break the spell. Forego the impractical puzzle dreams and carry on. Postcard in hand, I head for the register. See a table with quote-covered notebooks. Pause, read:
The purpose of life is not be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well. -Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’ve seen it before and, truth be told, it bugs me every time. Normally I rather enjoy Ralph’s thoughts and quotes, but I can’t get on board with this. It’s a red herring of sorts, implying that happiness is somehow separate from being useful, honorable and compassionate. When in fact that’s precisely what happiness is. Happy is not a shallow giggle or senseless smile. It is not flighty pursuit of momentary pleasures or the thoughtless perusal of desires. Happy takes work. Happy makes you a better person and creates a powerful ripple effect. It’s rich, deep and meaningful. I love happy. Choose it everyday. And this quote is an annoying misrepresentation.
To brazenly change the words of a great, I think it should say
The purpose of life is to be happy – to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.
Restock complete, we motor back towards the cabin. The day is alive in the way only possible on a perfectly sunny autumn day. Sharp, in focus. A landscape marked by slashes of bright green pastures, butted up to a cascade of red and yellow trees, topped by the clear cerulean sky.
Wanting to immerse, I pull onto a dirt road, come to a stop. Baylor sits up, looks around. Stares up at me, surprised that we’ve stopped somewhere other than the cabin. It’s just too pretty. We’ve gotta play in this field. I unlatch him, give him the go ahead, Okay, you can get out.
We grin at each other, take off across the field. Running, jumping, laughing. I crouch down and Baylor follows suit. Rolls over and sticks his legs up waiting for me to drag him around in the grass. A small truck, returning form the mailbox at the end of the road, drives our direction. The woman rolls her window down. Do ya’ll have permission to be here?
Um, no. Sorry. It was just so lovely I wanted to stop and get a picture.
She looks from me to Baylor to Rufio. So he rides in that thing?
Yep, he really loves being a sidecar dog.
She smiles, Well, enjoy yourselves. Waves goodbye and leaves us to continue our frolicking trespass.
Back at the cabin, I carry in provisions. Check that the eggs made it back in tact. Feed Baylor, apologizing that it’s past his preferred 5pm dinnertime.
Kettle on, I sit on the couch. Pull my legs up beneath me and think what a great day it was, followed immediately by the worry that perhaps I didn’t do anything important in the big scheme of things. Didn’t cure a disease or save a life. But, I reassure myself, I was out there living with compassion and intention. I talked with people & created community. Looked into strangers eyes, shared stories and felt connected. I tried my best to be joyful and to spread that joy to others. And from the reactions I received, I like to think it worked.
And maybe, just maybe, this is the most important thing of all. To really take the time see each other. To genuinely connect with and appreciate the friends, the strangers, the people that pass through our lives in a given day. To understand that whatever our differences at the base of it we’re the same. Filled with hopes, fears and love. Overcoming pain, obstacles and hardships. Just a bunch of homo sapiens trying to figure out this thing called life.
Not always easy, but undoubtedly worth it.
152 days down. Many to come.
