Last week at this time, I woke up here.
It wasn't accidental, if that's what you think. I had made the trip the day before, and had spent the evening connecting with, listening to, thinking alongside of Very Important People. (Not sure how I became part of this group, but that's a thought for another day.) Late night laughter at Tim Horton's meant I was mildly groggy the next morning. Shared meals and meetings all day long. With more to follow the next day.
Somewhere during dinner on the Tuesday evening, my brain shut down. It defaulted to that mode in which a warning sign flashes repeatedly:
"Go. Outside. Alone. Recharge."
Consequences of ignoring this warning include Saying Something Really Dumb, so I paid attention to the flashing sign, politely excused myself, changed into running shoes and headed out.
I had just eaten, so running was out of the question. But I walked. Oh, did I walk. Talked to Spike for awhile on the phone while walking. Texted a few friends.
And walked.
And walked.
Up hills.
Around curves.
Through a subdivision and a golf course.
I walked until darkness fell and stars were visible. The flashing sign turned itself off, and mental processes rebooted. My soul exhaled peacefully.
That's when I realized I really had no idea which direction I was going. Or should be going. Or where I was at all, exactly.
Hands up if you've ever been thankful for an iPhone with a GPS. *raises hand*
Turns out I was 6K away by car, but only 2K on foot. I walked in the front door of the hotel just as my phone died. Got in the elevator, smiled to myself, went to my room, sat on the balcony for a few minutes, and then dropped into bed where I slept like a log.
Aaahhhhh.
