Let me just begin by saying that the backs of car seats do not make good beds. My body ached all through the night. The sunrise came far too early. I opened my bleary eyes when my alarm went off, wondering where the night had gone.

Our first challenge this morning was finding a bathroom. Because of COVID-19, a lot of stores are opening later than usual. Luckily, we found a Kroger just a few minutes away. While I was in the bathroom, Joseph cleaned up the car. We got hot water from the Starbucks inside the store for tea and instant oatmeal, and then we were off on our journey.

We drove the first four hours without stopping. We chatted and listened to music, revisiting our playlists from yesterday. The first state line we crossed today was Missouri. From a distance, we marveled at St. Louis and the grand arch. We are planning on visiting St. Louis at the end of this trip on our way back to Maryland.

We stopped just 30 minutes farther down the road because we were in desperate need of coffee and that’s where the closest Dunkin’ was. We sat on a parking lot curb again today for lunch, eating sandwiches and baby carrots. After our meal, we decided to take a walk to stretch our legs before getting back on the road. 

We walked first to the obvious main attraction, a grandiose casino just down the road. When we got there, we walked down the stairs of the parking garage to find an older, abandoned floor with graffiti-covered walls and mounds of dirt caked onto the floor. It was odd to see the stark contrast from the richness just above our heads. It seemed like we had stepped into a city out of a science fiction novel, and we had traveled from where the rich lived up ahead to where the less fortunate lived down below. 

We wandered out of the garage and stumbled upon a biking trail with train tracks running alongside it. With the shade from the trees protecting us from the Missouri summer heat, we continued our stroll to find a county fair set up in a parking lot. 

I absolutely love the county fair. There is just an air of excitement to it that can’t compare to anything else. Fairs are filled with local treasures, games almost no one ever wins (but I try anyway), and fun rides that are practically designed to make people throw up all of the delicious food they ate. 

But I discovered today that the magic of county fairs disappears when they aren’t filled with people. Joseph and I gazed out at barren food stands and empty rides, feeling as though we were looking at a ghost town. It was creepy and unnerving, like something out of a horror film. What reminded me that it was reality were the signs on the pavement instructing people on how to properly social distance when the fair does open. 

“Social distancing,” Joseph began thoughtfully. “How bad do you think the PTSD of this generation is going to be?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Kids are suddenly not able to see their grandparents. They can’t hug their friends. Everyone is wearing masks. That’s pretty scary.” 

“We are living in crazy times,” Joseph said. 

That we are. But the thing is, when has life ever been normal? People attach the word “new” to “normal” to try to make sense of the new situation we are in, but the truth is, “normal” is never a real state of being. I was terrified when the coronavirus began, scared to step foot out of my house. As the months have drawn on, that fear has not dissipated, but I have realized that I can’t stay in my house, petrified of the world around me. Caution is important; our actions should not place ourselves or anyone else in harm’s way. But we can’t wait to live until things are “back to normal.” No one and no thing is normal. And that’s okay, because it’s not the normalcy of a situation that gives us comfort. Normalcy is something we can’t ever truly rely on, as proven by the novel coronavirus. So, how could it possibly bring us peace of mind when it can so easily be taken away? What will truly bring us solace in times like this, and really any time in our lives, is our adaptability and willingness to change. The “new normal” is here; it’s just what we call “normal” now. For me, what is most important now is discovering how I can best love those around me in these new circumstances.

We returned to our car, eager to get back on the road. We briefly visiting Kansas City, but on our way there, we were stopped in standstill traffic for an hour, which delayed us enough to decide to just head on to our campsite instead. To pass the time, we spent a few hours exploring the enneagram. 

The enneagram is a personality test with nine different personality types. According to the Enneagram Institute’s website, it’s normal to find something in common with all of the personality types, but people tend to have one dominant personality and one complementary or contradictory personality, called the wing. Joseph and I have both taken the enneagram assessment in the past, and we both tested as twos. However, Joseph recently began to think that maybe he got the wrong results. 

It’s already a chore to take a long personality test once. Neither of us wanted to take it a second time. Besides, after knowing what we tested as, we thought it might be difficult not to subconsciously have that knowledge influence our answers the second time we took the test. 

Instead, we made a fun activity out of trying to discover our enneagram ourselves. After reading brief descriptions of each of the nine personalities, we listened to the corresponding song from the album Atlas: Enneagram by Sleeping At Last to see if we connected with the music and lyrics. 

It was actually a pretty effective test. Sleeping At Last did an amazing job of adjusting their musical style to fit what I would imagine the different personalities would be most attracted to, and the lyrics were so incredibly empathetic to the way each personality thinks. I felt like, if nothing else, my empathy and understanding for all the other personalities increased. 

I connected with the same song as I tested: two. Joseph, however, best connected with the three personality, and when we read the description, it fit him perfectly. The funny thing is that each of our wing (complementary) personalities is each other’s: Joseph’s wing personality is a two and mine is a three. So, even though we are not the same personality like we once thought, we understand each other well. 

We are staying in Kansas tonight. Our campsite is a beautiful spot of land adjacent to a quiet lake. When we arrived, Joseph started on dinner while I set up the tent. We had turkey burgers and salad for dinner again, but tonight, Joseph got the burgers so hot that the cheese melted on top. 

As the sun set, the trees became silhouettes against the purple clouds floating in the pink and orange streaked sky. As people packed up their fishing gear and left, the lake became as smooth as a mirror. Joseph and I strolled around the lake, listening to the sounds of the crickets as the lightning bugs danced around us. As the world darkened, we gazed up at bright crescent moon. The sky stretched on forever, cluttered with the brilliance of billions of dazzling stars. 

We are so small in this world, in this galaxy, in this universe. Under a sky like that, I couldn’t help but feel just how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of life. 

But, as just a small bit of the universe, that also makes me a part in the most significant thing we know. Just as there are trillions of stars above my head, there are trillions of cells within me. Every day, new cells and stars are created, and every day, cells and stars die. Scientists still cannot fathom the complexities of the cosmic universe, but inside me, and inside every person, is a complex universe of our own, filled with mystery and beauty too wondrous to comprehend. 

Though we may be small, we are anything but insignificant. We are a beautiful work of art, a masterful creation, designed with purpose. 

When we arrived back at our campsite, we had dessert: the Rice Krispies treats I made before this trip. And then, with our stomachs full and dessert cravings satisfied, we climbed into our sleeping bags for some much needed rest.