On the Eve of Adventure
It's that time again - the eve of adventure. In a few hours I land in Florence, Italy.
It's not the right time to travel. I have a book to launch, an audiobook to record, a business to maintain a new course to market and a slew of other adulty ambitions to pursue. I'm feeling a lot right now. What if I lose critical momentum? What if I take my eye off the ball and miss what I'm supposed to do? What if I spend too much money? What if....yada yada yada.
But there is never a right time. There is only time and how we choose to experience it.
And this time I'm choosing to experience it in Italy and France. The celestial bodies ordered in such a way that presented me with an un-say-no-able opportunity - a wedding in the French Alps. So I do what I've done many times in the past. I abandon reason and follow my gut which says go. Besides, it would be an insult if I didn't occasionally indulge in the freedom I've earned for myself.
So I'm going. For the next few weeks I'm trading ambition for indulgence, routine for spontaneity, focus for impulse, and the known for the unknown. I know I'll feel the guilt of not working, the anxiety of things going wrong while I'm gone, the anxiety of detaching from goals in progress, and the fear of spending too much money. But that’s part of the journey.
I know it will be worth it as adventures like this have always been. When I exit Florence's airport I'll enter a strange place with new words, sights, sounds, smells, people and energy. My senses will sharpen and absorb everything both mundane and profound. I'll become a child curious and fascinated about everything around me.
Part of me knows what's ahead. I'll get to bask in the Florentine Renaissance, taste Bologna's food, gaze the Tuscan countryside, watch two good friends get married in Chamonix, hike the French alps, sip world class wines, and tap deeper into the histories of days long past. I'll intertwine with old friends and perhaps make a few new ones along the way.
But I don’t know what will happen inside, and all exploration is ultimately internal. What happens outside merely catalyzes what happens inside. Long days of inevitably meditative long walks will let me tap deeper into myself. I'll wake up with days unplanned and ride shotgun to my curiosities and impulses. Detaching will help me sort out the important from the trivial. What I see, eat, drink, and do will invite the profound to deposit occasional revelations.
What may seem like "frivolous" time abroad will remind myself why I'm launching my book, running business, and cranking the wheel on all other adulty routines. When I return I'll be ready to do what needs to be done so I can keep my conspiracy of freedom alive.