A Road Trip to Sequoia, a Drive Toward Re-evaluating Perspective.

"We don't see things the way they are. We see them the way we are"- Kotzker Rebbe

What was supposed to be a fun, adventurous two-day trip to Sequoia National Park somehow morphed into a 10-hour road trip where we never even touched Sequoia soil, we just admired it through the car windows. I’ll take most of the blame: minimal planning mixed with a little too much naïve spontaneity. To me, if a trip requires minute to minute planning, it loses its luster and becomes more of a task on a to-do list (yuck).

It was Sunday morning of Labor Day weekend. Into the car we went, me, my husband, and 4 out of our 5 kids. Honestly, the trip almost ended before it began. The protests started early: “I don’t wanna go,” “Why would we drive to see a tree?” “We have trees in the backyard, look outside!”, but we pushed through the grumbles, loaded the snacks, and hit the road.

Fast forward to the park entrance: we’re inching our way up 5,000 feet of elevation, winding narrow mountain roads on the side of a cluff. The views were beautiful... the parking situation, not so much. Every lot was jam-packed, shuttle bus lines stretched for what felt like miles, and there was literally nowhere to stop, not even for a bathroom break. Did I mention my husband got really sick on the way, leaving me as the sole driver? Try and picture the moods of our crew: ages 13 down to 2.5, trapped in a car, circling cliffs with no end in sight.

Eventually, I made an executive decision and gave up. We turned around, drove back down the mountain, and headed straight home. Ten hours in the car, zero minutes with the giant trees. By the time we got back to LA, I was exhausted, emotionally drained, and convinced the whole thing was a disaster.

On a whim, I asked my 5-year-old son if he had fun. His response? “Yeah! (with a huge smile)”- I was floored. For him, the trip was awesome: unlimited snacks, endless shows with his sister, and all that brother and sister time.

Perspective is wild like that. For me, it was draining and disappointing. For him, it was basically the best day ever. And honestly, his answer shook me. Instead of leaning into my frustration and voicing every negative thought, I had tried to keep calm, keep quiet, and just drive. Turns out, he showed me what the trip really was: time together, with a silver lining only a 5-year-old could see. As we inch closer to Rosh HaShana, perspective is top of my mind. Imagine if we could view all of our challenges and areas for growth with a positive perspective? How might the end result be different? Instead of getting stuck in the usual loop of stress or frustration, I’m choosing to reframe, to see the good, to notice possibility. I’m excited (and a little curious) to see where this road leads.

Here we go... Yalla!