The biggest question we've gotten from fellow roadtrippers is, "where are y'all headed?" Out loud we answer, telling of our next stop - listing out the cardinal directions as if we've been doing this our entire life.
In my head the answer is always quite different. Because where we're headed isn't a place. When we packed up the van two and a half months ago, we only had a vague direction of where we were going. There was no destination and no plan. For the first time in my life, I had no idea where I'd be the next day.
So when people ask, I want to say something like: "we are headed into this moment" or "we are just right here." I'd imagine the search for the present moment could be the endeavor of a lifetime. But for me, the threshold to "now" has been at every canyon's break, every summit hike, and around every forested corner. It has been nestled inside every laugh-til-I-cry session and, surprisingly, every peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And I've been rewarded with every morsel.