I’m Proud of Myself!
I felt the fear and did it anyway.
I hadn’t been on a road trip longer than 100 miles in ten years. Plus I still feel a bit traumatized from a near-fatal car accident, yet I wanted to visit my brother 1,000 miles away.
Somehow, worries kept fluttering into my thoughts like a swarm of gnats. What if…I run out of gas, get lost, or have another accident? Unlikely, but if it happens, you’ll cope I told myself.
Yes, flying was an option, but more expensive since he doesn’t live near a hub. Plus, I’ve noticed that as we get older, it’s easy to give in to small fears and let our world keep shrinking. But, if I started doing that now, I might not leave the house in 20 years!
So, time to suck it up, Buttercup, I swatted the gnats of fear out of the way.
Besides, look at how long we live these days.
I’m not content to sit around for the next 20 years.
Some of you have read my earlier musings about health and life purpose, and you’ve probably guessed that I’m trying to figure out this getting older business.
Don’t you love inspiring stories of success…especially, against adversity?
My sister and I love to forward these stories to each other. Women who are still teaching yoga in their nineties, graduating from college in their eighties, and still writing and publishing at ninety-two. Yep, that’s right! Recently, I read Babette Hughes’ article in Writer’s Digest.
Age is not a disability, it is a second chance at life. I’m 92 years old and Post Hill Press has just published my three-novel Kate Brady series; (The Hat; The Red Scarf; The Necklace); I’m working on my fourth novel (Searching For Vivian) and fifth book, and am a frequent contributor to the Huffington Post.—Babette Hughes
I see Ms. Hughes lives near me in Austin, Texas, and I’d love to meet her—she sounds like the example we all need.
Age makes us freer, calmer, less lonely, better friends with ourselves. We have more of an edge and more softness. Our likes and dislikes are crisper. We understand more deeply the people we love. We know the green of spring for the first time, the thoughts in our heads, our mistakes.—Babette Hughes
So, I hit the road.
My car was in good shape—I had it checked out. I packed snacks, plenty of water, road flares, a flashlight, rain gear, a first aid kit, and a Space Blanket.
Once I got on the way, my fears faded, and I relaxed. Altogether I spent 20 hours driving by myself, listening to the radio, Louise Erdrich reading her book The Night Watchman, and enjoying the scenery. Nothing bad happened and I was only nervous a couple of times, caught in torrential downpours on I-35.
Yes, I’m more mindful than when I was younger, but that’s not a bad thing. When the storms rolled in, I exited the freeway and relaxed for twenty minutes. It turned out there were five rollovers on a two-mile stretch of highway that day; a lot of people were in too much of a hurry.
Not me. I’m learning to savor each day as though it may be my last— I’ve learned each day is a gift. I treasure the visit with my older brother and his wife; it was so worth the driving.
Thanks to all of you who inspire me with your stories.
Mine is a simple story of moving forward even when it was a little scary. I know many of you face health problems, family tragedy, financial insecurity, and more. However, I feel less anxious and more confident having overcome my fear.
One of the joys of writing is the chance to encourage each other as we explore life’s uncharted territory. So keep on trekking and sharing what works for you!