Enjoy the road traveled

I recently had a minor epiphany. Or perhaps not so minor.

My wife is a teacher and has regular report cards due, which is always a slog in the household: She’s barely keeping her nose up out of the added work that’s on top of the plenty of work she normally has. It’s a couple of weeks of really late nights for her, her not being available much/at all for any family or down time, and on top of my own busyness, I need to be even more on hand for taking point on any and all things kiddo- and household-related. Tiring and not ideal for one and all.

For the most recent round of report cards, on what turned out to be a very nice, sunny, oddly mild day, my daughter and I got out of my wife’s hair by heading an hour east of Toronto toward neighbouring region Scarborough’s Rouge Valley area, which the family had visited some weeks earlier. It’s a huge area with lots of trails and is gorgeous in the fall.

The place my daughter and I were planning on going to turned out to be packed. Overpacked, really. There was just one big parking lot and people were doing multiple loops around it, hoping to snag a spot when one became available. But after doing a few laps ourselves, we realized we were only burning our available time there.

Disappointed at missing that chance, we rolled the dice and drove farther south, hoping to still get a shot at an outing somewhere along the Valley.

We lucked into a spot at another parking lot elsewhere and went for a walk to check it out.

And it was really nice.

We had gone so far south that we were right by the lake, and there was a huge inlet/wetlands area that made for some nice vistas (we noticed plenty of evidence of beavers, but didn’t spot any, nor even their dens). There was a particularly cool beach that would be amazing, though probably jammed, in warmer weather. But even in this off-season, it offered gorgeous views and a cool tide pool (complete with little critters in it), and we explored a weathered bridge over the inlet that led up to some great panorama viewing spots…

I got more photos taken in that maybe hour and a half than in any other I can recall, just to try to capture some of its beauty and appeal for my wife when she got a chance to see them.

And it occurred to me a few times while we were there that we would’ve missed all of it–perhaps have never even have known of this place’s existence (no overstatement: I was born and raised here, yet at 48, never knew about this little gem only an hour’s drive away)–if we hadn’t lost out on making our first plan happen. Meaning, if we had taken the first “road” we planned to take, yes, we would’ve enjoyed what we were initially looking forward to, but we would never have experienced the really nice time we had completely accidentally when we had no choice but to try something else instead.

Which gets into the rather Buddhist life philosophy of appreciating what you have in the moment you have it, even if it’s not what you (thought you) wanted. It’s of course all fine and well to strive for more; to want to achieve things. But don’t be so distracted and committed to those plans that if they fail, you aren’t still enjoying what you’ve already got.

Want a better job? Go for it. But if you don’t get it, be happy that you at least have a job already (as far too many don’t).
Want a bigger house, a nicer car, a better body? For sure, work toward getting any of those things. But if you can’t (yet), don’t dwell on lacking that; enjoy and appreciate what you still have.

To extend that further, if you feel like you’ll only ever be happy when you get more than what you have now, you’ll never be happy. Even when you set goals, which is a good and healthy thing to do, be happy as you progress toward them and of course be happy if you reach them. But go into it knowing that reaching them is not going to be the end of the game–you won’t have reached peak happiness–because whether it’s earning even more or now getting another car, or beating your running time, or whatever it is, you’ll likely be setting all new goals for yourself.

One approach to life has you happy all the time. You’re happy with what (even little) you have, and are happy as you make progress to getting whatever more you may want.
The other approach has you only briefly happy. “I’m happy now that I finally got [X], but I’ll be really happy when I get [Y].” That approach is a guaranteed cycle of less happiness. And who wants that in life?

I readily admit I’m still working on this. All the time.
Frustrating mornings, or running late for an appointment because of weirdly dense traffic, or not enough time to write or read, or whatever it is… there’s often wishing something somewhere were somehow different.
But it isn’t. It is what it is, as the recent saying goes.
And wishing that you weren’t where you are, or that things weren’t as they are, only makes you less happy. Worse still, by focusing on what isn’t ideal, or that you’d be happier if only…, you’re choosing to be less happy.

Strive for better wherever you want to, but rather than being unhappy with what you don’t have, be grateful for, and happy with, what you do have.

This came back to me yet again just yesterday evening.
I was parked behind some buildings, but there was a gorgeous sunset happening on the far side of them. I really wanted to get into the car and try to find somewhere else that had a clear view of it for a better photo–Ugh, if only I was on that big bridge near home right now!–but as with everything in life (and always feeling even moreso with the best things), sunsets are fleeting. The best parts of them can be gone in mere moments.

Had I gotten in the car and tried to get to a different location for a better shot, not only may I not have found a better place and lost the chance for any photo at all, given the dense urban area where I was, but I would also have lost the unique opportunity (as all moments are) to just see and enjoy what it was for myself.

Live in and appreciate each moment for what it offers: another Buddhist lesson that relates to all of this. Instead of stressing over getting more, I appreciated what I was seeing then and there, and got a shot of it regardless of it not being from a remotely ideal viewpoint.

Is the photo perfect, in my opinion? Far from it.

But I’m happy I got it.