Airstreams & Acceptance
Plus a dog (and a human) with tummy aches
Back in December I wrote a post about travel. About how to stick to habits that ground you (like exercise and meditation), about disconnecting, and about staying calm amidst delays and setbacks and things not going as planned. Last week I got the opportunity to test drive my own advice— specifically that part about things not going as planned.
My husband and I planned a short trip to Dripping Springs, Texas, just a bit outside Austin, in the hill country. We were scheduled to leave Friday evening and spend a night in Austin, before driving out to Lake Travis to meet up with some friends for a boat trip and lunch. From there, we’d head to our Airbnb, a 1974 Airstream in Dripping Springs and spend the next few days exploring Pedernales Falls State Park, Westcave Discovery Center and various breweries and wineries.
Best laid plans.
When we arrived at the airport there was a suspiciously long line at the ticket counter for our two concourse airport on a Friday afternoon at 4:00pm. When we went to access our boarding passes on our phone there was a message that we’d been rescheduled— on a 6:00am flight the next morning on a different airline, though a totally different connection. So, we joined the others in that long line to see if there were any other options. There were not.
Plane travel is different right now. I knew it back in December, through my husband’s experience as a frequent traveller and felt it keenly myself on this trip. Author and speaker, Jon Acuff, confirmed the same thing recently, as well:
As we stood in the line Friday evening, I thought back to that article I wrote. Specifically to the part about equanimity. About remaining steady and calm when things don’t go as planned. About just accepting the situation at face value. This is. Instead of this is good or this is bad.
I think I did okay with it. I tried hard not to engage in communal complaining with other travelers in line. To focus instead on being helpful. Providing what little information I had to others (if your flight is cancelled, this is the line for you— if not, they are checking people in down in that other line type things). But I was reminded in such a real way that it’s hard not to let the disappointment about things not going as planned turn into anger and frustration.
I was disappointed we would be losing time with friends the next day. I was disappointed I would have to get up at 4:00am for a flight on vacation (the avoidance of which was the entire reason for this particular Friday evening flight). But those are little things. As I watched people stand their ground and refuse to accept the options offered by the gate agents I thought about all the not so little reasons people might be flying— weddings, funerals, big birthdays, illness of a loved one.
There are things so much bigger than a few extra hours of sleep and time with friends that people would be missing with these cancelled flights. And while there’s never a reason to be angry at the person behind the counter, it was a good reminder to me about how easy it is to write a list of travel tips from the comfort of my living room and how much more work it takes to actually live out those bullet points.
But the lessons didn’t end there.
We got into Texas just after noon on Saturday, and still had a wonderful afternoon with friends on the lake. On Sunday we met up with those same friends to explore a couple breweries in the Hill Country. It was a beautiful, warm, Sunday afternoon, full of laughter and good food and drink.
The absolute best.
Then, Monday morning my husband woke up with a stomach thing. We’re still not sure if it was a bug or something he ate. Thankfully it wasn’t COVID, but whatever it was— was unpleasant (to put it very mildly). For a couple hours I think we both held on to a shred of hope that it was the world’s fastest moving digestive issue and that we’d somehow make the 8am-12pm arrival window for our reservation at the state park that morning. It was clear by 11:00 that we weren’t going anywhere.
And so instead of exploring the falls at the state park, I explored the huge HEB grocery store a few miles from our Airstream for ginger ale (surprisingly unavailable), sports drink, water, and pretzels for my ill spouse and some meals for myself.
Tuesday we were scheduled to check out of the Airstream, have a leisurely lunch at a winery or brewery, take a guided tour of a waterfall grotto, and then head to a hotel in Austin before our early flight out. While his symptoms were (thankfully!) much improved, it was still clear that these plans were way too ambitious for someone who was only just now tenuously eating a few pretzels and cautiously taking small sips of water. Luckily there was an early check in available at the hotel we’d booked and we were able to spend the day there.
Back home, in the midst of some research for a presentation I was preparing, I found myself re-reading Jon Kabat-Zinn’s attitudinal foundations for mindfulness in seminal work, Full Catastrophe Living. There are seven of them, but one particularly stood out to me against the backdrop of this very different than planned travel experience: acceptance.
Kabat-Zinn writes:
Acceptance does not mean that you have to like everything or that you have to take a passive attitude toward everything and abandon your principles and values . . . Acceptance as we are speaking of it simply means that, sooner or later, you have to come around to a willingness to see things as they are. This attitude sets the stage for acting appropriately in your life no matter what is happening. You are much more likely to know what to do and have the inner conviction to act when you have a clear picture of what is actually happening versus when your vision is clouded by your mind’s self-serving judgements and desires or its fears and prejudices.
I didn’t like that my husband was sick, obviously (nor did he, also obviously) but the right decision was just to accept that. To pivot. I spent a lot of time on Monday just sitting outside reading a book. I love doing that and rarely do. I also love exploring grocery stores when I’m traveling in other countries— so I tried to use that same lens in the HEB (which is a Texas chain, so new to me). Tuesday it was the right decision to accept that he still needed to rest. To call the hotel just in case we could check in early. To enjoy a little solo walk around the neighborhood, a leisurely lunch, and more book reading by the pool.
I definitely don’t always get acceptance right. In fact I mostly, don’t. Especially not with things bigger and harder than upended vacation plans. I can be as much but why is this happening to me as anyone. But, you know what, I’m sort of proud of myself on this one experience. And that’s what it’s about, right? Small wins.
Accepting those small wins.
Things of Beauty
Just a few things that felt particularly soul-nourishing recently (or maybe just made me smile).
Stroopwafels. We’re loyal Delta flyers in this family, because one of us (not me) travels lots for work and has all the miles. We got rerouted via a different airline for our cancelled flight Friday and while I promise I’m not cheating on my beloved Biscoff these were pretty swell (your cookie game is strong, United).
The book that I spent so much of Monday with was Kris Spisak’s debut novel, The Baba Yaga Mask. Part of the storyline is set in the Ukraine at the start of World War II. Such a timely read and so heartbreaking to see history essentially repeating itself. Highly recommend.
Sasha the dog at Jester King Brewery. The goats were supposed to be the main attraction, but their guard dog stole the show.
What’s beautiful in your world this week? Any small wins to celebrate? Anything you’re working to just accept. Do you have an adorable guard dog with a sensitive tummy? I’d love to hear about it all!