It’s hard to be patient when there’s a long road ahead. Maybe your goals feel way beyond reach. That's when it's best just to enjoy the journey.     


A couple of years ago we drove to Florida. We would have preferred to fly, but the cost of five airline tickets convinced us otherwise. As I packed for the trip, I was determined to make our 18 hours on the road as enjoyable as possible.

So away we went with a tote full of electronic gadgets, movies, music, travel-sized board games and my long list of “games to play in the car.” And you know what? It was actually pretty fun!

At one point, we started listening to songs that were popular when I was a kid. Memories from my childhood started flooding back. I couldn’t resist telling the girls all about them.

Head over Heels by the Go-Go’s reminded me of junior high skating parties. Eye of the Tiger reminded me of playing in the band at high school basketball games. Footloose reminded me of when I tried out for Pom Pon my freshman year.

Curt joined in, admitting that when he was a paperboy, he listened to the entire Footloose soundtrack (on cassette tape of course!) every day as he delivered newspapers.

Who could have guessed that a bunch of old songs could spark so much conversation? The kids learned more about us (probably more than they cared to know), and for awhile, we remembered what it was like to be a kid.

Another thing that made the drive more enjoyable was stopping in Nashville. Normally Curt is a big advocate of driving straight through on long road trips. This time we spent a day in Nashville. We watched a show at the Grand Ole Opry, visited the Country Music Hall of Fame, and ate some great BBQ at the Wild Horse Saloon.

By the time we arrived in Florida, we’d already made many great memories.

When I think about that trip to Florida, it reminds me of some things I need to keep in mind as I pursue my writing goals. Maybe you’ll find these helpful as well.                                       

Learn all you can along the way.
Madison learned how to read a map. Taylor learned that she actually liked Billy Joel. By the time we got there, we’d all learned something new!

Celebrate small accomplishments.
Reaching your destination can be great, but it's also the end of that particular journey.  I don’t want to be so focused on the destination that I forget to enjoy the steps it took to get there. Our main goal was to hit the beach, but every time we crossed a state line we celebrated. No matter how long the trip, I want to enjoy the journey.

When I was a little girl growing up on a farm, I had lots of fun riding my dad's tractor. I know this probably wouldn't be allowed today, but I’d face backwards, safely resting back-to-back against my dad, with my little legs swaying as we bounced along.

I liked seeing the sites along the well-worn path on the way to the field. We’d pass by three or four cows with busy jaws, their brown eyes staring blankly at me. Barn swallows darted in and out of the hog house. A couple of horses stomped and swatted at pesky flies.

Then came the exciting part. I’d hold my breath and hang on tightly as we headed down a steep hill toward the creek. Slowly, the tractor tilted from side-to-side as we made our way through the narrowest part of the creek.

Tractor tires gripped the mushy ground, forcing deep tracks into the mud, and flinging tiny specs of cool water onto my bare legs. Finally, Dad gave the throttle a firm shove and we were back on our way.

It didn’t matter what kind of field work we did. My job was always the same -- enjoying the ride and listening to the steady rhythmic pop-pop-pop of the John Deere 70. We’d plod along while a song filled my mind.

“I’ve been working on the railroad, all the live, long day …” 

Then without warning, the melody that crept into my head somehow slipped out of my mouth. Before I knew it, I was humming along with the tractor. But who could stop at humming? I looked around. Just me and the open field. So I belted out my new improved version.

“I’ve been singing on the tractor, all the live, long day … I’ve been making up a new song, just to pass the time away …”

My legs swung along to the rhythm with the tractor.

Dad’s tractor kept perfect time for any song I’d sing. Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, Mary had a Little Lamb, even 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. The warm sun and gentle breeze accompanied countless tunes until late afternoon.

Then panic hit.

How long had I been singing? I was so absorbed in my daydreams, I’d forgotten all about Dad! I jerked around to see the same rough hands still solidly gripping the wheel. I felt relieved -- and a little embarrassed. Smiling to myself, I realized Dad had been there all along.

It’s been a long time since I’ve sat back-to-back with my dad on a tractor. These days, I spend my time behind the wheel of a minivan hauling three kids to piano lessons and ball practices.  

Sometimes I miss those old days. I never watched where I was going, but it really didn’t matter. I was with my dad, who knew our destination. And there was always a song in my heart on the back of Dad’s tractor.

*As printed in Farm & Ranch Living Magazine July/Aug 2012