It’s never the destination, but always the journey

At 92, Harriette Thompson, ran the marathon not to get to the other side of town, but because it was the journey that mattered.

A few years, ago, I made plans with my daughter to visit some friends of mine out of town. I planned a full weekend road trip leaving Friday afternoon and coming back late Sunday night. I was looking forward to seeing old friends and my daughter was looking forward to leaving early and hanging out with me. With bags packed, we were ready to make the noon drive out of the big city.  Then a phone call came literally 30 minutes before I was to pick up my daughter from school. My friends had an emergency and couldn’t accommodate. Disappointed, I understood. Now what was I going to tell my then four year-old? After a quick brainstorm and a few phone calls, we were back on track.

Plans change. There’s nothing you can do. The real tragedy would be to do nothing and go nowhere at all.

As it turned out, I called on my daughter’s maternal side of the family who lived in the same city. They were free. It sounded like we were crashing at their place last minute, but this was a visit we had been planning for years but never did it. I offered to have dinner, see a few sights as we stayed in a hotel. But family does what families do; they welcomed us into their home. They hadn’t seen my daughter in a long time either. Turned out to be one of the best weekends we’ve ever had. And we’ve repeated it ever since.

My daughter wasn’t too upset at not seeing my friends; she doesn’t really know them. For her, the journey was going on a trip with daddy; it didn’t matter to her whom we visited. Substitution, at this age, is the key. Plans sometimes change. There’s nothing you can do. But make a point of doing something. The real tragedy would be to do nothing and go nowhere at all.

A few weeks ago, my daughter’s school friend was going to come over for a play date. Fifteen minutes before it was supposed to happen, I got a call to say that it wouldn’t happen. She was very disappointed and said that her friend should have called earlier. It’s hard to argue with that logic. So we wind up throwing on our jackets, took a bus downtown and discovered there was a neighborhood festival in progress. We got hot chocolate and street food, sat on the sidewalk and people watched. Then we went to the park and played with other kids and when it got dark; we went to visit grandma and had dinner before going home. Those very last-minute yet fun-filled 8 hours would have been missed if the play date had happened with a friend she would have seen at school the next day, anyway.

To this day, my daughter is not so hung up on last minute cancellations because she knows that that something equally interesting can happen. And she’s discovering that something wonderful can happen while she’s busy making other plans! Didn’t John Lennon say that? Beautiful!