The COVID-19 pandemic had cast an eerie veil over our world—closed pools, bars, and restrooms rendered everything surreal. Nevertheless, we found solace in the midst of uncertainty.
Our cherished beach, Sand Harbor, beckoned us on our first day. As noon approached, we joined a long line of cars awaiting entry. The gatekeeper, tasked with managing the three parking lots—one for RVs, one for cars, and one for kayakers—steadily turned away disappointed visitors, as it turned out all three lots were already at capacity.
When it was our turn and we finally reached the front of the line, the gatekeeper relayed disheartening news—the kayak parking lot had reached its capacity at 7:30 a.m., and he did not anticipate any openings until at least 5 p.m.
Grounded in the knowledge that we shape our inner state, Christine and I did not succumb to disappointment. Serenely, we drove past the brimming kayak lot, allowing curiosity to guide us as we wondered what the universe had in store for us that day.
Unexpectedly, a blue Subaru carrying two kayaks on its roof rack engaged its taillights, backing out of its coveted space. Seizing the opportunity, we swiftly circled back to the gatehouse, informing the attendant of the newly vacated spot. “You’re incredibly fortunate,” he exclaimed, granting us entry.
The ensuing afternoon on the beach and in the water was one of delight, reaffirming our conviction that the universe supported our quest for tranquility.
The following day, we planned to explore a different beach, convinced that Sand Harbor would undoubtedly be overflowing again. Nevertheless, curiosity propelled us to make a quick stop there, only to discover the parking lot was indeed brimming with vehicles.
Engaging in a brief conversation with the attendant, Christine asked about alternatives. “All the lots along the coast are full too,” he responded, advising us to head back to the California side of Tahoe as we wouldn’t find access on the Nevada side.
As we drove away, our gaze fell upon the kayak lot, and behold, a car was once again emerging unexpectedly. Swiftly retracing our steps, we maneuvered quickly into the newfound spot. Had Christine not engaged in conversation with the attendant, our departure would have transpired too hastily, robbing us of our fortuitous placement. Was it luck once more?
Homeward-bound that evening, we made a decision to dine at the town’s premier steak and lobster house. I placed a call beforehand for a reservation, only to be met with disappointment. “Sorry, sir, we are completely full,” the maitre d’hotel relayed.
“What if we were to arrive immediately?” I asked.
A glimmer of possibility emerged, “Well, actually, a cancellation has just occurred,” he disclosed. “If you can make it within the next five minutes, I can seat you at their table.”
Though our journey took approximately 15 minutes, we indulged in sumptuous prime rib. Amidst the global turbulence of those times, we found ourselves immersed in a state of flow.
Each synchronistic event felt like the universe whispering to us: “Have you recognized the depth of love surrounding you yesterday? Have you recognized it once again today?”
Read more of Dawson’s moving stories to reground yourself in looking at your own life differently and in a humble manner. Check out his other blogs HERE!
