“Angst Ridden” - It’s interesting what a little agitation can produce. I’m in a fleeting, complex and topographically diverse emotional landscape I can’t quite get my bearings about, and even if I could, I’m not in a mood to discuss it with anyone. I need quiet time, which, for me, is a drive with a little bit of music, preferably something that doesn’t remind me of anyone, anything or any time in my life capable of adding to the triggers I’m already fending off.
Driving has been my love since I got my license at age 16. But “driving meditation” really came into its own when I was 23. I use it, use it often, and use it well. I know when the “cravings” come on, typically out of nowhere, I need to just go with it and process my feelings. The mood hit me unexpectedly like an undertow at 3:30pm. I couldn’t let IT go. I JUST HAD TO GO. .
I departed Borrego Springs with one thing on my mind—to drive west to the ocean—hopefully arriving before sunset, with Carlsbad as my destination. My sister lived there years ago just blocks from the ocean. I’m heading towards Tamarack Beach for my ocean fix. I know I’m cutting it close because of leaving so late in the day, but I can’t help when these feelings hit. I just have to honor them and quell them best way I know how.
I take Montezuma Pass, pass Ranchita and Warner Ranch, duck a bit south and then head west on Hwy. 76 at Lake Henshaw. There, the road winds uphill, ascending to 2,000 feet to meet Palomar Mountain. Just past La Jolla Indian Reservation are a series of hairpin turns where you meet the blessing of a glimpse of spectacular view and a glimpse of the ocean in the distance, a thin membrane of color nearly indistinguishable from the luminous sky beneath a dark blanket of clouds. Seeing this jars my senses. I’m fixated, my hand itching for my camera. I slow and park the jeep at a turnout. I pause, dumbfounded, stopping to take in what I cannot speak of out loud...
An angst ridden view.
(2019 Miranda Remington) - 3 hours ago