There Are Cairns

Before we step into the wilderness, something starts to resist the life we’re living.
How misalignment shows up long before we’re ready to admit it.

There are cairns. You just need to look.
The signs are there, even if they are subtle.

I’m driving to work in my long commute, about one hour in the morning, longer at night. I feel and hear a familiar pop. I exit the freeway; my car comes to a rolling stop at the light. I put my foot on the gas to turn right.

Stall.

I push harder, a slow creep until I speed up. Then everything seems fine again. The issue only happens when I slow down. The car doesn’t want to move again, almost like it’s dragging its feet, not wanting to go to work with me.

Now it’s worth mentioning that this is an intermittent issue that I had known about. It comes and goes as it pleases. I’ve had my car in the shop three times in recent months, at both the dealer and a local shop, and nobody can replicate the issue to fix the car. By the time my car goes in, it’s driving fine again and I’m left trying to explain to the mechanics what exactly the pop sounded like and what I was doing at the time.

It’s also worth noting that each time the issue occurred, I was in exactly the same place on the 5 freeway, about a mile from the exit I take for work. It never happened on the way home. It didn’t happen during my two hour drive to my section hike of the PCT. It has only happened when I’m going to work.

There are cairns.

I order my burrito to go. I don’t have time for lunch today. I’m starving and in a hurry; there is so much work to do. I get back to my office and open the bag.

Wrong order.

It’s a fish burrito. Absolutely not my jam. The only fish I eat is deep fried and next to french fries, a product of growing up in the Midwest, I guess. I frown and snack on the free bag of chips. Then I go back to work. I don’t have time to go back and nobody starves in a single afternoon.

Suck it up and keep going, Laura. You just have to get through the day.

Fast forward later that night. I’m at a business dinner with my colleagues. These are posed as optional, but that’s not really the case. At my level, I’m expected to go. I’m squished at the very end of the long table, reviewing the menu.

Seafood.

I find the alternate option for people like me. I scan the ingredients, deem everything safe, and order.

“I’ll take the burger.”

What feels like an entirety later (to be fair, there were twenty people to prep food for), my plate arrives. I scrape the surprise mayonnaise from the bun as best I can.

Two bad food orders in a single day.

There are cairns.

I’m walking around the empty dirt lot during lunch, chasing my 10,000 steps any way I can. Two laps around the lot is a mile. I just need to squeeze three more miles in between meetings today. The sun is shining on my back and head and, in a moment of inspiration, I pick up rocks from the ground and carry them back to the office.

I wash them in the sink and, without thinking, stack them on my desk in front of the window.

A cairn.

I sit at my desk, answering emails, and look at the cairn facing the door.

There are signs.

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