Be Flexible: Life Lesson #7

“Do what you can with this camel pose. It’s not a competition.”

As I leaned back on my heels, stretching my arms behind me in an attempt to touch my hands to the mat, I was focused intently on not falling over backward or dislocating my shoulders. The last thing on my mind was competition, although I will admit that five minutes earlier, I was doing my best to avoid looking at the nimble woman beside me who resembled a pretzel. A happy pretzel.

“Lean into your body. You want to be flexible… mind, spirit, and body. Think of yourself as a soft vessel, accepting what comes, bending where necessary. Don’t fight it.”

My momentary discomfort (and frustration with the crick in my right shoulder) was forgotten.

Be flexible. Be soft. Bend.

Good lessons for my body and for life.

And lately, flexibility has been more than a yoga goal; it’s been a guiding principle as I plan my European road trip.

When I began planning this adventure, I dreamed of driving the Swiss mountain passes and visiting Germany (I promised the Blue Car we would return to its birthplace). I envisioned driving the length of Italy—from Piemonte in the north to Calabria in the boot—and exploring Portugal, northern Spain, and France. It all seemed like the right amount of terrain for an unhurried four-month pace.

But as I exchanged messages with Porsche owners in Europe this summer, looked more carefully at weather and road conditions, and resigned myself to the U.S. citizen 90-day EU visit limit I couldn’t easily circumvent, more and more questions arose.

How can I drive through Swiss mountain passes when snow might not clear until late June? Will Italy take too much time, causing me to rush other places I want to visit? If I push the trip later to visit the Alps, will I be miserable in the heat with no AC, fighting traffic and tourists on congested roads? 

I shifted my start time back and then forward again, changed the order of country visits, and even considered changing the port of entry. Eventually, I let all my plans go and asked myself, “If I were starting from scratch, knowing what I do now about closed Alpen passes and the 90-day limit, what would I do?” What good things might come from being flexible? From bending where necessary?

In the end, the answers turned my plans upside down: I am now mostly exploring northern Europe.

I added four weeks in the U.K. to round out my trip to four months, and new possibilities emerged. I’m excited about enrolling in a one-week writing retreat, touring gardens in early bloom, and heading north to Scotland to visit distilleries and meet up with friends from my yearly photography workshops.

I know good things come from flexibility.

And while I pride myself on the ease with which I can bend my expectations in response to changing winds, there are times when my determination and “can-do” approach run headlong into reality.

Two years ago, I woke to lightly falling snow in Gallup, New Mexico. It was 6:30 a.m. on day 90 of my road trip, and I had a coveted ticket to the Meow Wolf art experience in Santa Fe at noon. The drive was about three hours in good weather, so I quickly dressed and went to the hotel lobby.

“The weather app says this snow should last a few more hours. What do you think the roads will be like? Do you plow and salt the Interstate here?”

The receptionist responded quickly and confidently. “We don’t do much this time of year, as the roads are still warm. You might wait a while. It should all melt soon.”

This was the moment when having a companion in the passenger seat (or, as I wished later, driving the Blue Car) would have been useful. Someone to talk things through. Someone to suggest getting a second opinion. But it was just me, and I was determined to get to Santa Fe on time. I went back to my room, checked for available Meow Wolf tickets just in case (none for the next two days), and packed up.

My test run to the gas station for a fill-up went well. This should be fine, I thought.

I got on the entrance ramp for Interstate 40 and immediately found not a road but an ice rink. I drifted from lane to lane with no traction. Thank you, summer tires. I slowed to a crawl (truly a crawl) and kept to the right-hand lane, watching cars sliding past me. The seven-mile trip to the next exit took almost an hour as I gripped the steering wheel, passing two trucks and multiple cars off the road. It was one of the scariest moments of the trip (I’ll save for another time the afternoon when a herd of bison surrounded the Blue Car…).

I had no time to chide myself during that harrowing drive; all of my attention was fixed on staying on the road and away from other vehicles. When I finally escaped that icy hell, I parked at a diner and spent a long time with a cup of hot tea, delving deep into my psyche. I was forced to confront something I often avoid: the fine line between determination and stubbornness. What made me get on the road? Was my entry to Meow Wolf worth that much?

When the snow stopped over two hours later, I got back on I-40. The ice had melted, and I pulled into Santa Fe just after 1 p.m., heading straight to Meow Wolf (just in case). A sympathetic attendant waved me through the front entrance. I’m thankful the Blue Car and my driving skills, along with a dose of luck, saw me safely to my destination.

Often, my tenacity makes magical things happen. Other times, it would serve me well to let things go and remember that flexibility is not the same as giving up. It isn’t shameful. It’s a sign of maturity. Flexibility involves acknowledging changing conditions, identifying alternative options, assessing risks and rewards, and then being wise and confident enough to shift gears.

It’s easier to be flexible at this point in my life. I have nothing to prove, no grand wins to demonstrate to colleagues or the larger world, no rush to get somewhere in a hurry. Of course, I mean mental flexibility here. If we talk about the bodily contortions required in yoga, it’s a different story. Maturity giveth, and maturity taketh away (notice I avoided the word “age” here).

Driving the Blue Car has encouraged me to lean into flexible living—New Mexico aside. Flat tires, a rear window defroster that doesn’t function, the patience needed to start the engine after it sits for a few days, even what I can pack into that limited under-hood space—all of it requires openness to change and a willingness to lower expectations. But good things often result from my nimble approach, and shifting my 2026 itinerary northward has yielded exciting new possibilities. Things I never would have considered otherwise.

In addition to the U.K., I’m now heading to Scandinavia to beat the heat,and hopefully some of the crowds, as the days grow longer and hotter. Denmark was always on my list; I studied architecture there and have friends who are like family to me and my children. But the shift from Italy to points north means I’m heading to the Arctic Circle of Norway, a destination that fills me with anticipation and excitement. Gazing at the remoteness of the Lofoten Islands and Tromsø, which is the world’s northernmost city, and sits at 70 degrees north latitude, has also stirred something new. For the first time in my travels in the Blue Car, looking at a map has also brought a flutter of trepidation.

I trust the Blue Car, and it just came back from its final checkup and tuning before its trans-Atlantic journey in January. But just in case, I searched for Porsche Clubs in Norway and then expanded my query to Sweden. Being flexible is great but it’s always good to have both a backup plan and a local connection.

That Sweden search led me to a delightful surprise:

Porsche Club Sverige 50 Years – A World-Class Anniversary Festival with Parade

From May 14–17, 2026, Gothenburg will transform into Europe’s most vibrant Porsche metropolis. Porsche enthusiasts from across the continent will gather to celebrate Porsche Club Sweden’s 50th anniversary and take part in the legendary Porsche Parade Europe. Four days filled with pure passion, iconic design, maximum driving joy, and unforgettable camaraderie await. A must for everyone who loves speed, style, and celebration. Welcome to a Porsche festival that will make your heart beat a little faster.

Who, I must ask, doesn’t want their heart to beat a little faster? Okay… I am still on the lookout for a man who will do that, but meanwhile, a girl must take what she can get. I’m registered for the event. The four days of fun include a slalom event at a local airfield, day-long drive and lunch in the countryside, and even an evening gala celebration. I know I can find room in the Blue Car for those heels, gown, and glam jewelry. I can’t wait.

All because I was flexible and threw away my initial game plan.

Well, flexible in some ways.

It’s time to stop writing and start moving. The yoga mat, and the camel pose, are waiting.