Getting Away Without a Plan
I have not taken a real vacation in years, not since life changed and I ended up here in Boise. Sometimes people talk about fresh starts like they are bus tickets, shiny and simple. I have learned to be careful with that kind of talk. Still, one day I needed to move, even if only for a little while. I took a small bus up toward the mountains, watching the town thin out and the road get quieter. It was not a grand escape. It was just enough space to breathe. 🙂
Cards, Radio, and Cold Air
I found a spot where I could sit without being asked to move along. I had my radio low, just enough sound to keep me company without filling everything. I played solitaire slowly, not trying to win anything, only letting my hands do something simple. The cards got cold at the edges. The mountain air had that clean sharp feeling, the kind that makes you notice your shoulders. For a while, I did not think about the shelter, the blanket, or what tomorrow wanted from me. It was a small relief, and I did not pretend it was more than that.
Silence Without Promises
The best part was not hope, exactly. It was the way the silence did not promise me anything. It did not say life would be easy or that someone was coming to fix things. It just sat there, steady and wide. When the game ended, I left the cards for a moment and listened. The radio murmured. The mountain light changed. I felt less lonely, not because I was saved, but because I was allowed to be still.
Coming Back a Little Softer
I came back downtown with the same coat, the same sleeping bag roll, and the same list of things to figure out. But something in me had loosened. Maybe that is all a vacation can be when life is hard. Not a new beginning, just a short pause that does not lie to you. I would take that ride again if I could. I would not ask it for miracles. I would only ask for a bench, a low radio, and enough quiet to remember myself. 🙂