I was watching the new (old) “Cosmos” series on Fox last night. It’s extraordinary. There was a fantastic illustration called the “Cosmic Calendar” on which they compressed all of time into 12 months. Humans don’t make their appearance on Earth until the LAST DAY OF THE YEAR. THE LAST DAY!!!!! It reminded me of my relationship to time and distance and how both things can get warped depending on my perspective.
Long before I lived in my current home of Ponte Vedra Beach, I vacationed here with my in-laws in our childless days back in 2007. One night we left the Ponte Vedra Inn and went in search of a local fish and barbecue restaurant the locals liked. All of us still remember that drive. It was pitch black outside because it was December and the sun sets so early. We left the coast and began driving inland. The trees changed from sporadic palms to water oaks covered in moss and increased in density so it felt like we were in a haunted forest. In the middle of nowhere, we made a right down a long driveway to what looked like a little house on a river. We all said out loud, “Where ARE we?” It felt like we had been in the car forever, far removed from civilization, in the most remote swamp hole-in-the-wall straight out of a slasher film. We had an unremarkable but laughter filled dinner.
When we moved here late in 2013, my husband and I thought it might be fun to figure out where that restaurant was and revisit it now as locals. It was winter again, so the drive from our son’s karate class just a few minutes from home was similarly dark. It took us SIX minutes to get to the restaurant. We were astonished and laughed at how freaked out we had been the first time we drove out there.
It felt similar when I moved to Los Angeles in 2006. It’s a gigantic city, and my neighborhood, Silver Lake, was extra confusing for me at first. It’s not laid out in any logical or obvious fashion—all curvy roads and dead ends winding through hills and around lakes. For the first three months while I was hunting for a job and crashing at my then boyfriend’s house (now husband), my only goal was to pick a coffee shop in another neighborhood and get there and back without calling my boyfriend in tears to help me get home. After just six months in the city, I was confident enough to get anywhere at any time of day without letting it stress me out. This was my city. Those were my streets. And I had my smartphone. A trip from Silver Lake to Venice Beach that would have taken a half day of planning during my first few months now was the least of my worries because I had done it so many times.
This shift in the perspective of time and distance happens when I try anything new. Things seem like they slow down because of the increased attention I have to give to something that is difficult or unfamiliar. When our first child was born and suffered through six months of pretty severe colic, my husband and I noticed that we were at our worst as parents and partners when we felt like THIS IS IT. THIS IS OUR LIFE NOW. Bouncing a screaming inconsolable baby on a yoga ball all hours of the night is just what I do now and it will last forever and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong and no one will tell me and this is FOREVER. This struggle is it. I don’t like it and there is no end in sight and I’m physically and emotionally and mentally drained and I will feel like this forever because there are no take backs on a baby. There is no breaking up with a baby. There is no lemon law for infants. What. Have. We. Done?
It’s the same with anything really. I know because I’m in the middle of a cycle of it right now. My husband and I decided 18 months ago that we would leave Los Angeles and transition our lives and our entertainment based careers to the east coast. It has been incredibly challenging. I’ll say more about that in a different post.
My real difficulty with the now is that it seems like it’s TAKING FOREVER. I would really really like to get to the destination already. I am NOT enjoying the journey. I am scared and having trouble cultivating gratitude for the many reasons my life is AWESOME.
This is where the experience of living in Los Angeles helps metaphorically. So much of your time in that city is spent in the practice of trying to get where you’re going in the least amount of time possible based on a quick assessment of the current circumstances. What time is it? What day is it? Which direction are you going? Is it a holiday? Is it a Jewish holiday? Is there a sports event? Is there an entertainment event? Is there an accident on the freeway? Is there construction? IS IT RAINING?!?! All of these factors can mean the difference between 25 minutes and an hour of travel time. All you can really do is identify the contributing factors, weigh your options, make a decision, and enjoy the ride. A peaceful acceptance of your experience based on the best information you had at the time. Even if getting there takes (much) longer than you expected.