Coming to you from San Diego
I had so many fun things I wanted to write about to you this morning, my friend, a whole week’s worth of big travels to fun cities and a new-to-me novel I put off reading for years because it was too big and too involved and then finally started reading on long plane rides this week (it’s breathtakingly good, by the way. More next week).
But alas, things don’t always go our way, do they?
I’m supposed to be writing to you from San Francisco this morning, on my way to meet up with cousins, colleagues, and friends I either haven’t seen in years or have only ever met on Zoom. I’ve had these plans for months and months. I’ve been so excited. But I’m not in San Francisco this morning — I’m in San Diego. With canceled flights and wasted nights in hotels. I’ll get to that a little later. First, a few good things. . .
#1 — I spent last weekend on a family adventure to Boston for a concert and my favorite Broadway play on its 10th anniversary tour. We had the best of times. I was the luckiest of women.
#2 — I spent this entire week on a solo adventure to San Diego for the annual philanthropy software conference I attend and a few in-person client meet-ups that made my soul soar and gave me so much new energy for my work life.
The derailment and disappointment came in the form of migraines — something I deal with from time to time, especially when I travel long distances, sit still for hours, get over-excited about anything, or work too much. Especially when I neglect my normal yoga and exercise routine and then have to stand in front of a crowd of people giving a presentation I’ve been preparing and practicing for weeks and weeks.
Which all happened yesterday.
I’d been feeling great for hours, though. I thought the pain was behind me, and then, the moment I turned on the microphone to start my presentation, a white-hot, searing pain started tearing through the right side of my head, and I spent the next 60 minutes barely making it through my slides and keeping myself from bursting into tears or falling over. It felt like a big failure during what could have been a big opportunity for me.
Afterwards, it was another four hours before the pain let me go. So, I was in no shape to fly to San Francisco last night. There was only room service for dinner, Shark Tank on the telly, and a hot shower and warm bed. Then a sleepless night, super early morning, and loads of migraine-preventing chiropractic stretches, which thankfully, finally gave me relief.
I didn’t even read my novel at all last night :(
But that’s the way it goes sometimes, hey? Plans go awry. Nasty surprises come out of nowhere, and we have to pivot. Searing white-hot realizations arrive, trying to teach us something we know is important but aren’t able to fully discern just yet.
My lesson? I think it’s time to admit I’m well over 40 now and need to adjust my exercise routine and travel strategy accordingly — I need more strength training at home, and I either need to buy some rolling carry-on luggage or start checking a bag because I’m no longer young enough to carry everything through airports in two hiking packs on my back like the pack mule I always dreamt I was.
It’s also a lesson in gratitude and humility, because it doesn’t escape me that this little personal setback of mine is literally nothing compared to what so many people are going through right now all over the world, and certainly in my own country.
And so, I carry on and hope for better luck next time.
I’m sure there’s a personal growth metaphor or two in there somewhere. I bet it will come to me later.
⊹⊹⊹
For now, I’m off to the airport.
Hopefully, I’ll be home tonight, or at least in Maine before the clock strikes midnight. A girl can dream. . .
I hope you have the best of weekends, friend. I hope you take care of yourself and don’t push yourself over any limits, boundaries, or guardrails so far that the searing lessons land on your plate like they have on mine this week.
And should you ever want to chat, I’m only an email away.
Always.
💛
Celeste
me, San Diego urban hiking