Life Measured in Micro Steps

During a recent journey from Wichita to Kansas City, my check engine light came on. At the same time, I was nursing a painful hip from a surprise back injury while on vacation. Normally, I enjoy driving the open road. I slide in the CD of my favorite soundtrack, munch on a snack and sip some water, sing along with the CD or make notes about another writing project.

But faced with these two challenges at the same time, this would not be a joy ride. So I planned several stops where I could check my car and walk around to alleviate the pain.

Towanda: one of my favorite rest stops because of the gift shop. Lots of Southwestern-styled purses which I dream about every time — turquoise and camel being my favorite — but not the price tags. Knowing I would soon be faced with some kind of car cost, I didn’t even consider a purchase other than a small breakfast sandwich and hot tea for plenty of caffeine.

Back in the car, my hip felt better — thank you, Motrin. The check engine light was still yellow and not flashing. On to the next stop, only 33 miles away.

Matfield Green: At one end of the Flint Hills, you can see the Kansas prairie for miles. A variety of grass, cattle herds, a buckskin horse, places to pull off and snap pictures. In the women’s restroom at the truck stop, I met another woman who, like me, struggled to get soap out of the dispenser.

“Really?” she said.

“Agreed,” I replied. “No soap?”

So we both spent extra time running water. Then I limped back to my car and doused my hands with sanitizer.

The next stop was Emporia. Time to drive through the final turnpike online toll and my usual stop at Braums for an ice cream treat. Cappuccino chocolate chunk, thank you.

But not this time.

My hip needed TLC, and I wanted to be as close as possible to home in case the car died. The next stretch of road would be the longest — 90+ miles. So I said several prayers and clicked onto a Christian radio station for encouragement.

But 50 miles later, my body screamed for relief. Luckily, I knew about the giant Love station off the ramp near Ottawa. So I pulled in and groaned as I exited my car.

After a stop in the ladies’ room — plenty of soap, thank you — I was delighted to discover a DIY soda fountain with the crushed ice and unsweetened peach tea I like. Grateful for the smallest of miracles.

Also at Love’s, I discovered my key chain had worn out. They had a display of amazing Southwestern designs with feathers and leather and a strong clip for keys. In my favorite dark purple with a friendly price. I figured I deserved it.

So in spite of all the challenges, I felt uplifted as I began the last leg of the trip. Only 38 miles to home. When I finally pulled into my driveway, I was sore, tired, and shouting, “Hallelujah!” After a refreshing shower, unpacking and a generous lunch, I thought about how my trip home coincided with the challenges of everyday life.

How can we make it to the next step on our journey — to that place with no challenges or maybe just one tiny one? How can we make it if we ARE facing multiple challenges?

We do it one micro step at a time. One journey to the next rest stop where we breathe and take a break. One whispered prayer at the next mile marker — the next season. Until we make it to our final destination.

Life’s journey does not come with one giant gulp of optimism. It is often a tiny morsel of sunshine on a cloudy day or a cautious step toward a goal.

It’s one step at a time in the right direction — with an occasional treat along the way.

©2024 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved

Image by geralt / Pixabay

Needing some encouragement for your current micro step? Check out Day by Day: Hope for Senior Wisdom.