One of our first blog entries for this trip was Everything works out for us, always, all the time. Everything did.

The letter I quoted had been sent to Melissa Kirsch, who writes for the New York Times. Melissa received a corollary from Sally Smith:

I try to acknowledge the times when bad things happen in a good way. The truth is, sometimes awful or inconvenient things happen. That said, things could always be worse. So I stop to appreciate when, for example, it turns out my battery is dead, but my car is in my garage (rather than a random parking lot). I can call AAA’s battery service and they will come out, sell me a new battery, and install it for me. I get to stay comfortable while waiting inside my house. Or maybe the power goes out, but it’s daytime and my phone is fully charged. Or the cat barfs on the kitchen floor instead of the carpet.

Sally’s observation also applies to our ride — although nothing big went wrong. There were times when small things went wrong, but they went wrong in the best possible ways. Riding in the rain actually isn’t that fun, but remembering that riding in the sun can be worse helped us be grateful for the rain. Waiting for a train was a waste of time, but we got to meet an Appalachian Trail hiker. Again, we didn’t have many opportunities to apply Sally’s wisdom.

There is an idea that overlaps. Sometimes when I think back on an experience or situation I focus on the things that could have made it better. As we rode into our final stay, a hotel that stored our bike boxes for us and let us use a conference room to pack it up, I found myself wishing that I had booked a bikers-specific bed and breakfast we just learned about on our ride that day. But my situation was already so good, why would I want it to be even better? Why would I focus on anything but gratitude?

I think the commandment of “Thou shalt not covet” isn’t because God is mad at me when I want something else; instead, He is saying, “You’ll be so much happier if you can find joy in what you have.”

This trip has been wonderful in so many ways. There were no meaningful disasters which require us to use Sally’s corollary. And now as we sit on the plane returning to Salt Lake City I am avoiding the tendency I have to figure out what I’ll do differently next time. Instead I am enjoying memories of our ride and looking forward to the next one. Maybe we’ll do everything the same next time.