Small and Insignificant Written By: Niki Ishikawa
I better post another blog before I beat myself up anymore than I already have for not writing it yet. It has been three weeks since my last blog post and I feel incredibly guilty for not writing. Not only have I not been writing my blog, but I haven't been working on my book either. I really haven't been doing much writing at all, not even my usual journaling. Why? Well, at first it was because I wanted to be super creative and make all of the Christmas gifts that I was going to give to people. Then I realized exactly how much time being crafty consumes and how quickly I was running out of time. Before I knew it, we were days away from Christmas and I had multiple unfinished projects that were not going as planned.
As if that wasn't enough on my plate, when I found out I didn't have to work Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, I decided that I would put all of my energy into trying to convince my husband to drive the boys, our puppy and me nearly 800 miles through nothing but desert to my hometown to spend the holiday with my three parents. Luckily my husband loves me and would do just about anything to make me happy. With two days notice, we ended up packing up and heading out. While we were only out of town for 8 days and spent 26 hours of that driving roundtrip, none of which I drove, in essense I had plenty of time to write. I had all of the intentions in the world to write, with my laptop tucked under the seat below my legs the entire road trip, along with my journal and plenty of writing utensils. While we camped out at my mom's house both my laptop and journal were well within reach and there were plenty of adults to keep the boys busy. Yet I didn't write.
Every time we make that 13 hour trip, I bring plenty to do, just in case I were to get bored. In the past I have spent a great deal of the time sleeping. Since driving that route with the kids, we've typically left at an awful hour only a few hours past midnight. After which I've spent the hours before packing up everything we might possibly need and not getting any sleep stressing over the details, lying in bed wide awake wondering if I've forgotten anything, only to wake up and leave an hour or two after my head has finally hit the pillow with my eyes barely having a moment to close. Which always makes for a very groggy unpleasant trip for me, where I spend most of the time trying to make up for the sleep that I missed the night before, between catering to my kids' and husband’s every dietary need, as I am always in charge of the travel cooler and snack bag, dishing out meals and snacks along our journey.
This time my husband decided to do things differently. I'm not sure if it was because we were making the trip so last minute not even knowing the night before if we were actually leaving in the morning or the following day, or if it was because he had a change of heart, but this time he didn't have a set time that he wanted to leave. Instead he kept saying, "we will leave when we are ready." Which frankly, blew my mind. I couldn't comprehend it. I really didn't know what to do with myself.
"What do you mean we will leave when we are ready?"
"Thirteen hours is thirteen hours it's a long trip no matter when we leave. We will leave when we are packed and ready."
So instead of getting the car packed and ready the night before and setting multiple alarms to wake us up in the middle of the night, we got up when we woke up on our own and loaded the car then. I have to admit it was way less stressful for me, than previous trips. The part that wasn't as great was that we arrived to our destination late at night and instead of the boys sleeping the first part of the trip they slept the last leg of the trip and were ready for play with a second wind upon arrival. The other drawback was having three meals on the road versus the usual two of only breakfast and lunch. But overall I think I prefer having less stress and not setting out in the middle of the night. Like he said, "thirteen hours is thirteen hours."
So getting back to my not writing. I fully anticipated getting bored on the trip since it is basically nothing but desert with a sprinkling of towns and cities between my hometown and my husband's hometown where we currently live. Since I was fully rested and wouldn't need to sleep, and stuck in a vehicle for 13 hours with nothing pressing to do, I expected to write. During this trip I found myself doing the usual catering to my families needs, but in between serving my family I didn't write or try to sleep, instead I found myself in total awe of what we were driving through. It's not like this was the first time I had done this drive either. I've lived away from my hometown for 12 years now. I've made that drive at least once a year probably more. Yet, this time I almost struggled to keep my mouth closed in gaping awe of the scenery I was taking in. While it was all familiar desert and miles and miles of it, there was something about it that was so awakening for me. I stared out at the mountains, canyons, sand dunes, Joshua trees, cacti, and sage brush and realized how small and insignificant I actually am in this world. I stared out at the sky and the sun peeking through the clouds and thought about what was beyond our sky. I was lost in thought and frozen in the moment. I couldn't write. I couldn't do anything but take in all that I was seeing. I did that for the entire trip, between potty breaks and serving my family I sat stuck contemplating my purpose, gazing at the scenery around me.
It wasn't until our last night at my mom's house, when we were laying in bed before going to sleep, I was talking to my husband about our pending trip home and I finally told him how I felt about everything that I saw on our way there.
"That's profound. You should write about it."
With tears filling my eyes, I asked him, "Do you think I can really write? Do you think it is my destiny to be a writer?"
"Let me put it this way. You know I'm not one to read and if I am going to read, I'm not normally going to read the type of stuff that you write. But I have read what you write, because you are my wife and I am always glad that I have read it, because you can write."
Part of my questioning myself came up after visiting with friends on our trip and the response I received from my blog, all of which was positive. I guess I was questioning if I truly was doing what I'm supposed to be doing in life. As insignificant as my life or for that matter my entire family is in the whole scheme of the world, I still want to make sure that I do this life right. I didn't know how to write about my experience out there in the middle of the desert along a lonely two lane highway road with a SUV full of my loved ones. I didn't know how to give what I felt during that road trip justice. So instead of writing about it, I sat and pondered it, until tonight, when I finally realized if I don't write something, anything, I am going to go crazy. And I haven't done it justice, but at least I've made an attempt as small and insignificant as it may be, it is better than nothing.
As if that wasn't enough on my plate, when I found out I didn't have to work Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, I decided that I would put all of my energy into trying to convince my husband to drive the boys, our puppy and me nearly 800 miles through nothing but desert to my hometown to spend the holiday with my three parents. Luckily my husband loves me and would do just about anything to make me happy. With two days notice, we ended up packing up and heading out. While we were only out of town for 8 days and spent 26 hours of that driving roundtrip, none of which I drove, in essense I had plenty of time to write. I had all of the intentions in the world to write, with my laptop tucked under the seat below my legs the entire road trip, along with my journal and plenty of writing utensils. While we camped out at my mom's house both my laptop and journal were well within reach and there were plenty of adults to keep the boys busy. Yet I didn't write.
Every time we make that 13 hour trip, I bring plenty to do, just in case I were to get bored. In the past I have spent a great deal of the time sleeping. Since driving that route with the kids, we've typically left at an awful hour only a few hours past midnight. After which I've spent the hours before packing up everything we might possibly need and not getting any sleep stressing over the details, lying in bed wide awake wondering if I've forgotten anything, only to wake up and leave an hour or two after my head has finally hit the pillow with my eyes barely having a moment to close. Which always makes for a very groggy unpleasant trip for me, where I spend most of the time trying to make up for the sleep that I missed the night before, between catering to my kids' and husband’s every dietary need, as I am always in charge of the travel cooler and snack bag, dishing out meals and snacks along our journey.
This time my husband decided to do things differently. I'm not sure if it was because we were making the trip so last minute not even knowing the night before if we were actually leaving in the morning or the following day, or if it was because he had a change of heart, but this time he didn't have a set time that he wanted to leave. Instead he kept saying, "we will leave when we are ready." Which frankly, blew my mind. I couldn't comprehend it. I really didn't know what to do with myself.
"What do you mean we will leave when we are ready?"
"Thirteen hours is thirteen hours it's a long trip no matter when we leave. We will leave when we are packed and ready."
So instead of getting the car packed and ready the night before and setting multiple alarms to wake us up in the middle of the night, we got up when we woke up on our own and loaded the car then. I have to admit it was way less stressful for me, than previous trips. The part that wasn't as great was that we arrived to our destination late at night and instead of the boys sleeping the first part of the trip they slept the last leg of the trip and were ready for play with a second wind upon arrival. The other drawback was having three meals on the road versus the usual two of only breakfast and lunch. But overall I think I prefer having less stress and not setting out in the middle of the night. Like he said, "thirteen hours is thirteen hours."
So getting back to my not writing. I fully anticipated getting bored on the trip since it is basically nothing but desert with a sprinkling of towns and cities between my hometown and my husband's hometown where we currently live. Since I was fully rested and wouldn't need to sleep, and stuck in a vehicle for 13 hours with nothing pressing to do, I expected to write. During this trip I found myself doing the usual catering to my families needs, but in between serving my family I didn't write or try to sleep, instead I found myself in total awe of what we were driving through. It's not like this was the first time I had done this drive either. I've lived away from my hometown for 12 years now. I've made that drive at least once a year probably more. Yet, this time I almost struggled to keep my mouth closed in gaping awe of the scenery I was taking in. While it was all familiar desert and miles and miles of it, there was something about it that was so awakening for me. I stared out at the mountains, canyons, sand dunes, Joshua trees, cacti, and sage brush and realized how small and insignificant I actually am in this world. I stared out at the sky and the sun peeking through the clouds and thought about what was beyond our sky. I was lost in thought and frozen in the moment. I couldn't write. I couldn't do anything but take in all that I was seeing. I did that for the entire trip, between potty breaks and serving my family I sat stuck contemplating my purpose, gazing at the scenery around me.
It wasn't until our last night at my mom's house, when we were laying in bed before going to sleep, I was talking to my husband about our pending trip home and I finally told him how I felt about everything that I saw on our way there.
"That's profound. You should write about it."
With tears filling my eyes, I asked him, "Do you think I can really write? Do you think it is my destiny to be a writer?"
"Let me put it this way. You know I'm not one to read and if I am going to read, I'm not normally going to read the type of stuff that you write. But I have read what you write, because you are my wife and I am always glad that I have read it, because you can write."
Part of my questioning myself came up after visiting with friends on our trip and the response I received from my blog, all of which was positive. I guess I was questioning if I truly was doing what I'm supposed to be doing in life. As insignificant as my life or for that matter my entire family is in the whole scheme of the world, I still want to make sure that I do this life right. I didn't know how to write about my experience out there in the middle of the desert along a lonely two lane highway road with a SUV full of my loved ones. I didn't know how to give what I felt during that road trip justice. So instead of writing about it, I sat and pondered it, until tonight, when I finally realized if I don't write something, anything, I am going to go crazy. And I haven't done it justice, but at least I've made an attempt as small and insignificant as it may be, it is better than nothing.
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