From Flow to Flexible

Here’s a story for you. It was a summer day this past July–just after my 60th birthday and something rare happened.  I had blocked out time in my schedule for packing but awoke that morning with everything done–my to do list had nothing on it.  I don’t know about you, but quite frequently, I’m flying by the seat of my pants and packing for a weekend trip the morning of my departure.  I was in the flow!

I was inspired to have an “Inspiration Flow Day”

Since I had blocked out that Friday for packing, and was ahead of the game, I was secretly gifted a completely blank calendar for that day, and decided to have an “Inspiration Flow Day”—a chapter I had written over twenty years earlier for Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff for Women.  I love these rare opportunities to wake up and see what I feel like doing versus the normal already booked hour to hour schedule I keep blocked out with interviews, online teaching, planning retreats, writing emails, blogging and coaching book clients.

It had been a long time since I could partake in a full day that had no plans at the start—it was like being gifted a Jeannie in a bottle who was granting me free wishes.  I could do and go anywhere I wanted to in the bay area so I chose one of my favorite locations—Sausalito.  Driving over the bridge is always stunning, and it was particularly freeing this day as I felt like a bird in flight. My vacation had already begun.I called a Chiropractor who I love to see in Sausalito,and I was thrilled that she could get me in on short notice due to a cancellation.  That’s flow. 

I had a couple of hours and made a quick stop in a store in Larkspur and from there I dropped by a Vitamin IV lounge for an immunity boost drip in preparation for my long flight to Europe the next day.  I had a mani/pedi and then met Debra, my business partner in bookdoulas.com  for an early dinner to celebrate our 60th birthdays (we were born just two days apart!)  I left Sausalito around 5:30pm with such a good feeling–I had had a truly wonderful day!

The traffic was not at all surprising but what happened next was

As I got on the freeway going towards the Richmond bridge I wasn’t at all surprised that there was  traffic—it was after all rush-hour.  But, there did seem to be more traffic than usual.   As I passed Larkspur and was almost to the bridge, I wondered why there was such a pile up and cars were merely crawling along.  I noticed as traffic continued to build as we got closer to the bridge that cars were also pulling off to the side of the one-lane road near San Quentin Prison. 

I rolled down my window and asked a guy what was happening and he told me the bridge was closed.   I immediately turned my car around—knowing that a much longer route was in store but I had no idea how long that day and night would turn out to be.  Inspiration was slowly giving way to something more like desperation.  My flow had just slowed down–there was no forcing this either.  This was going to be a mind game requiring flexibility and surrender.

My navigation was routing me to Napa/Sonoma and Vallejo.  It said I wouldn’t be home until 9pm that night.  I could not wrap my mind around how a two-hour drive could possibly take four hours—I thought this can’t be right so I proceeded forward.  (One thing I’ve learned is that my navigation is rarely wrong.)

Once I got past Novato the traffic came to a dead stop. I called my good friend and business partner, Debra Evans, whom I had just had dinner with to share my predicament.  I told her that I was in horrible traffic and asked if she could look up anything about the Richmond bridge to find out what was going on.

She said the bridge was closed because there was a man on the bridge that was threatening to jump. The bridge had been closed since 11:40 am that same day!  The man had been riding his bike over and climbed up to the top.  He sat there threatening to jump for twelve hours.  The crazy thing is I had noticed him riding past me as I was driving over to go to Sausalito around 11:30 am.  It’s usually so windy that I have never seen anyone riding their bike even though there is a bike lane. He was moving against traffic in one of those seated incumbents on the ground bikes.

We are connected constantly to one another

As dusk turned to dark I realized I would not be home by 9pm.  I started to panic, thinking I may not make it home in time to leave for the airport.   I hadn’t moved one mile in three hours.  At 9pm I wondered if I was going to make it home that night at all.  I began to play a game with myself and I asked all my angels and guides including my late husband to help me make it home safely in enough time to make my flight.  As I prayed, my car was filled with a peace and calm that had replaced the pangs of panic that aligned with the hundreds of thousands of cars that lit the merging freeways like flaming candles. 

I was planning on leaving for the airport at 9am so I figured I would surely make it home by then.  My nav showed me that in thirty miles—traffic would flow again.  The other thing was—I only had 50 miles of gas in my tank adding another element to my mind game. I had to comfort myself, consistently breathing all the way.  I had to surrender with flexibility.   I listened to music and podcasts. I amused myself by calling friends and sending pictures of all the traffic lights ahead.

Looking around I felt sorry for the hundreds of thousands of people that were trying to get home on Friday night.  I thought some of them probably had a crappy day too.  At least my day was a blast!  I continued to pray while we all inched along painstakingly like turtles racing. I was so grateful that I had taken the time to use the restroom before I left for home hours earlier.  I was very relieved not to be among the many people who had to squat or stand to relieve themselves shielded only by the growing darkness.

I finally found the flow again

Well, I did finally get into the flow again—and movement was so welcome—I made it to a gas station with three miles to spare and walked in my door at 1am the morning of my departure.  My inspiration had moved along the spectrum that day–from desperation to true relief as my head hit the pillow in the pre-dawn hours. 

I was struck by how one person’s actions could impact so many.  The authorities talked the cyclist off his perch and delivered that man off the bridge—twelve hours later. 

As I reflect on the many shifts and changes I went through on this day, I am reminded that we are individuals but part of the collective whole. We go along our path making choices that add to our individual self becoming. Yet, we are indeed very interdependent as an ecosystem. In the least expected moments, we are tied together like strings of light going somewhere and nowhere at once.  Our actions, large and small matter to those around us.  One choice that you are seemingly making for yourself can impact a whole city with millions of people–all who need to cross the same bridge to get to the other side of the bay. 

In the same manner, we never know how much our kindness and love impacts our world too.  One story—one book—one life saving act—one act of kindness, could change the world and does so every day.  As I fell to sleep that night, I said another prayer.  It was for that man who had clearly felt true despair; I asked that he would  find light in the early dawn, too, where he could cross his own bridge to find hope as he continued to choose life.   Our choices matter!

Happy to say, I’m back in the flow again!