God's GPS

Saturday, February 24 ~ Santa Fe, New Mexico

For a few weeks now and for no discernible reason, Texas (not Carolina) has been on my mind.

It's as though my inner GPS - my God Positioning System - is pointing me, without explanation, to the Lone Star State.

Frankly, I'm a bit resistant. I've crossed Texas a number of times over my two years of full-time travel - the short way along I-40 and the long way along I-20. But I've never felt any call to stop, never felt any pull to explore. And only a handful of the barely two dozen Texans on my mailing list do I know as more than an anonymous e-mail address.

Yet that GPS keeps on beeping.

I think about all that on my day-long drive to Santa Fe earlier this week.

"Why would I want to go to Texas?" I ask the Divine Void.

No answer. Maybe that's why they call it a void.

"Okay," I say. "If Texas is to be my next stop, I want a sign. Make the next license plate I see be from Texas."

It isn't.

"Ha!" I exclaim.

Then I pass a truck. The car now in front of me sports - you guessed it - Texas plates.

"Oh," I say.


It doesn't stop there. The very next vehicle also bears Texas plates, as do many of the vehicles along this stretch of I-40.

Does that convince me? For the moment.

The moment has a short shelf life.

Two nights ago, I contact my Texas Two Dozen to gauge interest in group activations or private sessions. The results (to date) have not been completely persuasive, even as I know that there could be myriad other reasons for my foray deep into the heart of Texas.

This morning, apparently still unconvinced, I leave my hotel to meet a friend for coffee.

The car next to mine is from Texas.

Fifteen minutes later, as I maneuver into the cafe's tight parking lot, I squeeze in next to a jeep.

From Texas.

I get it.

I'm going.