Schwinn and I headed for the Old Dixie highway today to see where it leads, only to reach rather quickly, a dead end where a handful of upscale houses back up to the Inland Waterway – boat docks and all. Perhaps Old Dixie picks up again on the other side of the bridge but I wasn’t inclined to investigate.
One of the houses, oddly, had a padded office chair on the edge of its driveway. Who could resist that? Not me. I sat down for a moment and melted into the seat, taking time to rest and reflect without having ridden very far from home – a break in my usual routine.
That’s a good thing, I thought – a routine break. It’s been almost a month now since I became a displaced person and two weeks since I discovered Schwinn tucked away in Dennis’ garage. And already, I have a routine: Shower, yoga, meditation, decaf cappuccino and checking email while I drink it.
That’s an abridged version of my old Pisac morning routine, where I have a solar heated bath to fill and meditate in which I sorely miss. My new routine begins after lunch with Dennis and Sharon, when I go for my daily bike ride and journal writing – exploring new territory most days to expand my horizons. Routine and breaking routine both have their appeal and pull.
It’s pretty in this spot with a divine fragrance wafting over the fence from a hidden gardenia bush. As I lounge in this out-of-place lounge-worthy office chair, listening to the gentle hum of traffic on the other side of the woodsy divide that secludes this off-the-beaten-path piece of the Old Dixie Highway, I feel no need for more than rest and relaxation.
I’m content to save inspiration for another day.
April 14, 2020