The Eleventh Hour

I’m not sure what it is about leaving town that suddenly makes everything that couldn’t be done before suddenly appear possible in the eleventh hour.

Like getting butterflies to fly in formation, getting my ducks in a row is tricky business.  I have accomplished diddly in last five days.  But today blogging, paying taxes, editing a brochure, deciding on an engagement ring, attending training, and finding a spray tan place were all in a day’s work.

I’m not sure why I believe all of this must be done before leaving. (Except for the spray tan.  We all know the blinding truth of what happens when we go to the beach sans spray tan after a very long winter.)  Attempting to make sense of the known gives me a false sense of security as I face the unknowns that await me as soon as I pack my bags.

They say it’s the things you can’t anticipate happening that make a trip memorable.  As much as I hope that everything goes as planned, there will be those things that don’t.   But as I’m learning from my Radical Forgiveness tape, “I’m not okay.  You’re not okay.  But that’s okay.”

Years of traveling have taught me I should plan better.  Years of traveling have taught me I should travel lighter.  Years of travel have taught me that in that eleventh hour I am going to question more than once why I decided to leave in the first place.

But years of travel have also taught me there’s nothing like it to open my heart, my eyes, ears, my taste buds, and awaken my sense of wonder, grace, and gratitude.  So I gather up my overstuffed luggage and six pairs of shoes and am off on an adventure with my sister and her girls at SCAD in that sassiest of southern cities, Savannah.

See you when I return. 

What Easter adventures might you be up to?   Share if you dare.

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