Life Isn’t Rush Hour

I watch you weave through rush hour traffic and I wonder where you are in such a hurry to be. I wonder if you are rushing toward a person or away from a place. Or, is rush simply your preferred speed? I wonder, Do you feel productive? Do you ever look in your rearview mirror?…

Writing My Purpose Statement

“So now,” Leah added, “you might consider writing your purpose statement.” You mean, write a statement about what I’m here to do? Like, the thing most of us spend our whole life trying to figure out or find? I just finished the couple month task of articulating my top priorities and values. For someone who…

Getting What I Asked For

I asked for a strong spine, a soft belly, deep lungs, and a curious mind. I was given the curious mind on my entry to earth—the stuff was woven into my DNA. But to other three, the answers to my requests were “yes” along with the opportunities to build these habits. Now I see the…

4300 Miles on the Road | The Nitty-Gritty of Cheap Travel

Turns out, when you pack a backpack, get in a little SUV with two sisters, and start driving several thousand miles to see overgrown mountains and ditches, you get questions like, “How are you even able to do this?” and statements like, “That’s a dream trip, you’re just really lucky.”

4300 Miles of Road | Update from a Laundromat

After days of hiking and swimming in ice cold lakes, and several nights of car camping, my sister, MaryKelli sponsored our $4.75 showers this morning. #realfriendsdon’tletfriendslivedirty I am clean *Cue the doxology.* I’m catching up on work emails while the laundry runs, so it seems like the perfect time for a rambly update.

It’s About Time

My dad has a broken analog clock in his office, so it shows the correct time only twice a day. One of his nerdy engineer co-workers scribbled “It’s about time” on a post-it note and left it on the useless clock. A useless clock with a timeless message.

4300 Miles of Road | Days 1-3

Half way through the middle of nothing. Also known as Kansas.

After 350 miles, Lizette pointed out that this place is literally flatter than a pancake. (She claims it’s scientific). MaryKelli is rhythmically banging her head against the back of her seat, adding a gentle *whop whop whop* beat to Coldplay’s Viva La Vida. I’m just glad that we have AC.

Blog intro: Sometimes I go by Jo

My name is Elizabeth Joy Bethea but I’ve gone by Joy since I was three-days-old, after my aunt sent a note from Georgia to my parents in Oklahoma with the single sentence, “Name that child.”