Opportunity is Knocking

 

In 2011 Geoff gifted me with a solo two-week trip to Paris. Without going into the details, he allowed me to live out a thirty-year dream to spend my junior year abroad.

I booked a one-bedroom apartment in the Montmartre section of the city and began to research all the possibilities: a wine tour of the Loire Valley -- daily walks through Tuilleries Gardens -- brunch at the famed Moulin de la Galette.

I embraced the adventure... until it was time to board the plane. At which time my Enneagram 6 brain went into high gear. A litany of "what if..." scenarios bombarded my thoughts. The realization of facing the unknown threatened my extreme need for security. 

As is typical of "what if..." scenarios, none of them came to pass. I breezed through customs. I hailed a taxi at the airport. I directed the cab driver to the right address. 

However, every single morning I faced a crippling decision: dare I walk out the front door --- away from the safety of my apartment and into the great unknown?! Fear paralyzed me. And in that moment, I told myself I had already experienced Paris through research. I didn't need to see it in person.

But as much as I crave security, I also refuse to live with regrets. 

Eventually, I convinced myself to take just one step out the door. That's all -- a single step. At that point, if I wanted to return to my comfort zone, I could. But of course, I never did. One step led to two which led to three ... which led to experience the trip of a lifetime.

Ten years later, I find myself staring at a different door.

The enormity of this snowbird trip hit me hard over the weekend. 

• We are not embarking on a short vacation... we are packing for an eleven-week excursion (!)
• We aren't traveling a few hundred miles ... we are driving nearly 3,400 miles across 12 states (!)
• Sure, we've done our research... but there is SO much we don't know about this RV lifestyle.
• And then there's all the "what ifs"

I shared one of those scenarios with Geoff:

What if... one of us experiences a medical emergency in the middle of the night? After all, we are both over the age of 60. I'm known for falling and breaking bones... we both have heart disease in our family DNA. What would we do with Hero?

Geoff's comment: 

I don't think about those things. If I did, I would never leave home.

Valid statement. I understand this scenario is only possible - not probable. And obsessing over unlikely events just robs me of joy. However, I can't stop these thoughts from popping into my head. 

BUT ... I can (and do) choose to leave the house anyway. I dare to take that one step despite my fears.

And today I realized this one little step is an act of bravery. I never thought of myself as courageous. After all, I spend most days hibernating in the nook in front of a computer screen. But I CAN do hard things. And I choose to do hard things because I want to experience life and not merely research it.

So we are off on another trip of a lifetime... each of us experiencing adventure in our own way.  Both of us embracing this one wild and precious life.

The Summer Day 

by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

The grasshopper, I mean--

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down --

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

With your one wild and precious life?