Hey 👋🏽,

We snuck out of work early on Thursday to go for a fall drive. I felt the urge to see the season in the Shenandoahs, he wanted one more glimpse of the summertime waves. We both wanted to pause, to be together, and the journey meant more than any destination could. Tears prompted by the beauty of seeing the wind tear watercolor leaves off of trees were inevitable on either path so off we went.

We drove through clear your head air with the top down, cheese in the cooler, pup at my feet.

I stare out my treehouse window every morning and see leaves turn green to yellow, yellow to orange but don’t notice them. On the road we were part of the scenery and I noticed my inattention.

I took a break from The Path open on my lap and the scenery to read an article on transitions by the founder of CircleUp.

I turned to my copilot, describing the article.

Grit was his hubris.
His what?
His hubris, you know, the downfall of Odysseus in The Odyssey.
Ya, I’m not that well versed on my Greek mythology.
Me either but someone just mentioned it the other day at work and

We drove past a neighborhood.

Babe, did you see that street name?

I didn't believe it so we doubled back.

Odyssey

Gratitude bloomed out of serendipity, a nod from the universe that we're right where we're supposed to be right now, or maybe more so that time and space are one and the same. To be here is now. Journey > destination. Take a moment, our time is limited.

We drove into the sunset on our way home. A few stolen hours tightly woven together felt like a few days in scattered attention on a long weekend. We promised each other another afternoon soon, and the new ritual meant more than mountains or sea.