Time, Time, Thyme...

Time moves weirdly when you’re a nomad. An event of six months ago feels like a few weeks have gone by, while another only two weeks ago feels like it’s been a lifetime. I know this happens in sticks-and-bricks life, too, but it feels escalated while living on the road. I think because there are fewer anchor points to connect the events into a place, grounding them into the physical and not just as memories—or maybe because there are so many anchor points that it’s hard to track them all. Perhaps both are at play.

This summer I drove Highway 101 from Ventura, CA, to Port Angeles, WA (and actually started in Flagstaff, AZ), over 1,700 miles in 6 weeks. I know that doesn’t sound all that fast—and actually leisurely. In my lifetime I’ve done longer distances in a day or two. But this wasn’t a road trip, blasting down the highway. This was a meandering with stops of several days many, many times along the way. Days that felt like weeks as I explored the beautiful towns and seaside villages of California, Oregon, and Washington, hung out with longtime friends and their families, and worked…and worked and worked. Weeks of being inspired by possibilities for my own life and that of my characters in the stories I’m writing.

Now, though, I’ve been in the same general area of “the West End” of the Olympic Peninsula in Washington—for a month already! Almost as long as I’d been on the road to get here, but feeling like I’ve only just arrived. How can that even be?

As you may know, I spent a few months here last year and loved it so much I knew I needed to return and explore it more. To get to know the area better and make a decision if this is Home or not. I’m still working on that…

In the meantime, Fall quickly approaches. The “Ber Months,” my favorite time of year, begin in only 2 days! One of my favorite parts of Fall is the nesting—preparing the home, life, and self for the slower, darker days of Winter. With this being my second Fall as a nomad, I already see the pattern of an internal desire intensely growing to be in a home, a deep-seated urge to make a cozy and comfy den for the months ahead.

It’s also the time of year that I really feel the need to lean into writer’s mode. Maybe it’s because of the idea of the “writer’s cave”—the imagery of the hermit hunkered in her warm, dark, cozy space, sitting by the fire with a mug of tea, dreaming up stories and bringing them into the world. While I call it a “writer’s cauldron” now because of the magic that happens when mixing together imagination, dreams, and just the right words, I still envision it as a place I sit in, a safe container that’s cozy and inspiring, just like the cave.

Last weekend, I joined my hosts in planting seeds for an herbal garden. As we pushed the seeds for thyme, basil, and oregano into the dirt, I set an intention to remember to always Be in the Now. To be present, because as so many wise people have said, the present is all we really have. The past and the future only exist in our minds, as memories and possibilities, which are so easily distorted. By Being in the Now, we can better anchor into what we’re experiencing, feeling it fully…and then letting it go as we experience the next thing.

Maybe this focus on Being in the Now has also affected how time moves for me. The experiences remain with me, but knowing exactly how long ago they happened has become less important than the fact that they actually did happen. And I am grateful that they did. I feel like that is at the basis of the purpose of life: to appreciate the experience of it.

So I sit here sipping my pumpkin spice latte, ready to welcome in everything I love about Fall, appreciating the moment right now and not worrying about where I will be after the leaves have fallen and decayed and the snow begins to fall. Will I still be here in the PNW, settled into a “real” home? Or headed back south, continuing the nomadic life? Will I see the herbs we planted grow into a beautiful and abundant garden for myself or enjoy the pictures that will be sent?

Only time will tell…or thyme (and basil and oregano, too).

How has your Summer been? Are you ready for the ’Ber months, too?