PORTLAND, OREGON

I remember my travels not only by the sites I see but also by the books I read along the way. On the flight to Portland I read Barbara Brown Taylor’s Leaving Church. Seemed an appropriate selection as I headed out to attend a meeting on progressive theology that lies intentionally outside the perimeter of the church I know. Mrs. Taylor became an Episcopal priest and wended her way to the ideal flock. In time she found herself so depleted from doing the work she loved for the multitude that were never satisfied and from hashing over human sexuality rather than focusing on divine Grace that she exited stage left.

Tired tears of understanding were pinched back as I read passages I could have written. I was heartened to realize I’d rather do the work of hacking branches to save myself than shoring up stones to preserve trampled tradition. And I’m scintillated by a quote from Vonnegut Taylor threw in, “Strange travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.” (Does anyone know what novel this is from? I just read Vonnegut for the first time recently and I feel a kinship with his quirky funny. I’ll now be on a quest to find this gem.)

When I looked up after finishing my book we were flying over a mountain range. Snow draped peaks cradled strewn gauzy clouds and I wanted to drop down just long enough to take a bite out of a freshly rolled ball of powdered snow. This trip to Portland gave two options for a day trip – the coast or Mount Hood. I wondered why I unhesitatingly chose to run to the mountain and thought perhaps it’s because it’s easier to get lost in the mountains. At the beach you can get lost by drowning; but the mountains offer countless options for straying and still finding your way home.

Portland proper reminds me of post-Annex Princeton blown up to a 10:1 scale - so clean and controlled and white. And for a little grit, the townies are gathered in the square, though these townies are probably from other places, like Decatur or Laredo. Loved the Japanese Gardens and was thrilled to have good food for not much money with free stuff thrown in by my servers at lunch and dinner. I think it was because I announced my exhaustion from taking the 7am flight from New York.

At 5:48 pm I trudged down to the shared bathroom (ugh) to brush my teeth before falling into bed. I was drawn to the lav at the back with a window overlooking the wine tasting patio. To my utter delight I discovered a claw tooth tub. Ah, now there’s a place I could prop myself up for another hour!