A Year and a Month and a Half's Worth of Reflections

It just occurred to me today (the 26th of December) that I've been in transit in some way or another for the past 6 weeks. And also for the past 12 months.

Along with that realization came a bunch of different feelings:
First, I felt accomplished.
Then, I felt impressive.
Then, I felt 24.
Then, I felt excited.
And then, I felt pangs of homesickness and doubt.
These are pangs I'm familiar with.
I've gone away for a while before, I've been in new and strange places.
I know where to put that doubt.
I brought cards (the USS Enterprise is always nearby, Bridey) and pictures (that 20th birthday present is still the best I've ever gotten, Abby) to make home seem less far away;
I sporadically Skype with Grampa and he tells me jokes that come through so clearly it's like we're sitting next to each other at the diner.

And then, I felt so, so fortunate.

But somehow, I can't seem to wrap my head around this experience I'm having.
Lately, I'm not as present as I'd planned to be.
I'm not as aware as I'd hoped.
It's as if this trip, this adventure, this whatever you want to call it, is happening to me as opposed to something I've made happen.
I keep having to take a step back and remind myself that I'm the main character here, that I'm not just reading this story.

It's as if my perspective inverted as soon as I got down under.

Part of me (60%) doesn't want to make any plans.
That part wants to just let things happen as they happen, go so entirely with the flow that I become a fly on the wall of the world.
"After all, that was the original idea," that part reminds me.
"Quit the 9-5, see the world, figure it out as it you go. So, go."

But now that I'm here and going with the flow, that other part of me is starting to wonder whether it might make for a better all-around experience if I thought ahead just a bit.
"Maybe map out the year and figure out some sort of route, so that you have things to plan for and look forward to," says the other part of me.
"Maybe it's a good idea to book some things and print out some reference numbers, just for old time's sake?"

It sounds ridiculous, but all this freedom is paralyzing.
It's overwhelming.
It's like being at the beach and not having a towel.

But then, who really needs a towel?

(By which I mean, I've been so programmed for so long to have a plan that now that I don't have a plan, I don't know how to proceed. But then, who really needs a plan?)

I went with Amanda (Tom's cousin Justin's wife...phew) to her yoga class a few weeks back, and upon re-reading this post, I think I've solved all of my problems. Wait for it, this isn't a tangent.

The yoga instructor was this super chilled out, lean-not-skinny Australian surfer who philosophized and lectured as we stretched and sweated through the various poses he called out.
At first, I couldn't get into the whole thing.
I like to think I'm open minded but telling me to "put all my thoughts in a proverbial paper bag" and then to "take that bag, and physically throw it away" and then watch each of us, one at a time, literally throw out a pretend paper bag is just a bit much, even for me.
And I went to camp.

But as the class went on, the instructor made some very good points.
Most of them were about being as mindful as possible, so as to keep things in constant balance and perspective.
One of the things he said is resonating with me now:
He was telling a story about one of his students who was distressed and seemingly unable to let things go. Something about work being stressful and a divorce, you know the story.
So the instructor tells the guy first to put his issues in that paper bag.
Doesn't work. Shocker.

Then the instructor says, "You know how to make things better? It's easy. It's so simple. You just stop worrying. You just stop."

That's it. You just stop. Once you free your mind up from worrying so much, you can pay attention to what actually matters, what's actually happening, what's actually in front of you.



Recap:
Life is good.
I'm half who I am and half who I'm dying to be.
I'm looking forward to 2010.