There’s an old saying, “The best-laid plans of mice and men…“
In the summer of 2019, I had just returned home from a 3 1/2 month excursion with my children into the lush rainforest of the Amazon jungle, the lively streets of Mexico City, and the beautiful white sand beaches of Tulum and Cancun.
It was the trip of a lifetime, even if my teenagers grumbled and whined most of their way through it.
My dream is to provide opportunities for them to see places on this planet that are not carbon copies of the town next door. You know what I mean, cities and even towns swallowed whole by gentrification, the same stores repeating from block to block and where each little province or town held its citizens together by community rather than social status.
There was nary Starbucks or Target in sight.
Upon returning to Los Angeles, things were going well in the summer of 2019. I was rebuilding a life more consciously for myself than I’d ever done. I had learned a lot about myself on that trip, and I was ready to move forward with a deeper understanding of who I was and who I wanted to be.
My children were getting older, and I realized that in 2020, I would reach my golden jubilee in life. 2020 would see me turn 50, my daughter turn 16, and my son turn 13. It was going to be a banner year for us all. And boy, did we have plans!
So, in the summer before our year of milestones, I made this declaration on my social media. I began to plan this trip in earnest, saving every penny I could, finding ways to make sure my children would be cared for, and walking every day—a lot of walking and hiking to prepare my body so my soul could do its work.
If you don’t know, the Camino de Santiago is a 485-mile pilgrimage that traverses Spain from the border of France that leads you to the tomb of Saint James in the Greater in the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. (there are other ways to join the pilgrimage from Portugal.- I was starting in France.)
It began as a religious pilgrimage and still is today for many, but it is also a spiritual journey undertaken by thousands of people each year who, probably like me, need to go on a long walk to remember who they are.
I was so ready for that walk; it seems, however, BoB (my nickname for the universe or God) had other plans for how that journey would unfold.
As we all know, in the early days and weeks of 2020, all of our plans changed.
And even though my birthday arrived in late February and I did have a small gathering, for the most part, everybody’s parties and plans were canceled, including my trip.
Between the bouts of fear about the future of humanity and our own survival, I grieved my loss of this journey that I believed would be the beginning of a whole new life for myself.
I had spent most of my 30s and 40s raising children and, for a significant portion of that, raising them on my own. I desperately needed this time away from my kids, not just because every mom deserves a vacation; for me, I needed to find my sanity and myself again so that my heart and soul were fortified for the teenage years rapidly approaching. So, not only did I have to cancel my journey, but finding myself locked in a small apartment with the two people I loved with every ounce of my being but desperately needed space from was a crushing blow to the dream. I believed the next phase of my life could manifest.
Instead of getting time apart, we got a lot of time together. Looking back, I realize that is exactly what we needed. We were forced to find ways to cohabitate, connect, communicate, and appreciate each other. The irony is this is something I thought would’ve happened on our magical adventure into the wilds of South America. Instead, it happened at our kitchen table, where we played an endless game of Monopoly.
And all my physical preparation for my long walk did not go in vain either, as we, as a family, hiked and found places we had never experienced and seen right in our backyard.
Where I am sitting riding right now is not where I expected to be. It is, however, where I should be. My kids, now 20 and almost 17, are moving forward in their lives in ways I would’ve never guessed.
Our relationships are strong. We are united as a little family of three. Each walking our own path, cheering each other on, deeply connected and rooted in love for each other.
If I think about it, it is exactly what I wanted. It just didn’t happen the way I thought it would.
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