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Day three of driving. Exterior temperature 80 degrees. You would think we'd be cheerful, but Rich has a monster cold and I am tired of sitting in the car. The sun is pounding into the passenger window, so bright I can barely see, and I'm covered in a light layer of sweat. I'm not blind to the irony of spending significant time and money to leave the gray skies of Michigan to enjoy the subtropics a thousand miles south, only to complain about the heat when we get there. Our mood at this moment reinforces one of my deeply held (if controversial) beliefs: happiness is internal.
I can hear all you materialists arguing. Who can be happy, hungry, cold and naked? I agree, of course. Happiness undoubtedly results from a mix of inner and outer states. There are people at both ends of the spectrum - fabulously wealthy and miserable, miserably poor and content. Still. Last night's $85 room didn't make me much happier than the $53 room the night before. The twenty hour drive in my awesome brand new Ford Fusion with its heated leather seats was no shorter than the twenty hour drive in the noisy RAV4 with 125,000 miles on it.
I'd like nothing more right now than to bust out of the car and take a long hike, not in these Chacos but in bare feet, with arch support from the warm white sand.
An hour and forty-five minutes to go.
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