I read a funny headline in The New York Times today, it said, "Forget the cold, it's always sunny on Instagram". That made me laugh because Steven and I had just had a conversation about the posts we put on Facebook. Do we overshare? Make things seem, I don't know, a little too perfect?
There is no denying that when you travel with an awesome photographer, it may not always be sunny, but it's sure gonna look fabulous. Of course, that's never the whole story.
Steven and I have moved on from our "perfect" spot in the desert to the coast where we are set up on the Rincon Parkway, a Ventura County park right on the Pacific Ocean. Here the sun is either shining high in the sky warming the days into the 80s or setting on the ocean horizon in a fiery blaze of glory. The wind is calm, the waves are rolling in one after the other crashing on the rocks below our site. There are dolphins jumping and splashing and surfers paddling around waiting for just the right wave to ride to shore. There's just an embarrassment of photographic riches, so, kind of perfect, right? Well, not exactly.
Indeed we do have a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean, but only on the right side of Scoopy. Directly out our front windows we look at the butt end of a travel trailer and our neighbor's awesome set-up, so mostly we keep our front curtains closed. Behind us is another travel trailer. Both have industrial generators they run periodically throughout the day. Outside the left windows, about eight feet away is the old Pacific Coast Highway, a very busy two-lane road. Across that road is a train track, and a few hundred yards from that is the six-lane Highway 101. (I think the folks on the Amtrak are looking at all of the RVs thinking "How fun!" and all of us RVers are looking at the Amtrak thinking, "How fun!")
Between the road traffic, the trains and the neighbors, it is really loud here. Sounds awful, doesn't it? But you know what else is deafening? The ocean. With its crashing, thunderous, beautiful, booming waves it drowns out almost everything else. Perspective is everything.
Steven and I are pretty well synced on what "perfection" means to us. As we travel, we've gotten fairly adept at filtering out the distractions around us so that we can hone in on our Happy Place. Sometimes it's obvious, like where we are now. Regardless of all that is around us, you really can't beat that ocean view and those amazing Pacific sunsets.
Our Happy Place!
Other times the view has nothing to do with it. We once pulled into a butt ugly campsite where our view was of a dumpster, a metal building and a Port-a-Potty. We'd had a long, hard day of travel and we literally high-fived when we got a spot. We just closed our curtains, happy to be off the road and settled, our immediate needs having been met. Did we post a photo of that view on Facebook? Actually, we did.
Not the best view we’ve ever had, but it’s memorable.
Ultimately, perfection is a state of mind and mostly a choice. Steven and I choose to see that which makes us the most happy and content. It would be so easy to focus on all that is imperfect, because believe me, even if we don't post a photo on Facebook, there's always something. But that's just not how we roll.