"I guess it is too late to back out now?" I said to my husband Brian this morning.
"Yep, too late," he confirmed while he added chopped green onion to some eggs he was preparing for breakfast. He didn't seem to be taking my question very seriously.
And so I kept packing and sorting and organizing and cleaning and did all the little things that I thought needed to be done. Nothing that actually really needed to be done. In the morning I went to Bartells to buy the tiny medication ziploc packets so that I could take some Advil and multivitamins in an organized fashion. Nervous errands.
Brian worked on organizing my i-phone to make sure I have space for the photos he is encouraging me to take. I am not the photographer in the relationship. I say I prefer to take pictures in my mind. Brian has been mocking me with a wide eyed simultaneous blink and head nod and clicking sound saying "this is how you take pictures".
"This is something that you have wanted to do for years," Brian reminded me.
I knew it was true. Of course. An epic adventure. A spiritual pilgrimage. A small break from the mundane rhythm of life.
But the what ifs are swirling in my mind. What if I get bored? What if I get hurt? What if I am robbed? What if I lose my passport? Losing a passport has been a huge fear of mine for as long as I can remember. What if I can't even think of the bad things that could happen to me?
Deep breath.
But what if I learn that I am stronger than I think I am? What if I can find something interesting in boredom? What if I am the recipient of generosity that moves my spirt? What if I can't even think of all the amazing things that could happen to me?
They are about to call my flight. The eager passengers are congregating around the gate area and there is the palpable energy and motion of people about to go somewhere. The collective fidgeting and foot tapping and luggage shuffling. One woman in a T-shirt with a denim jacket tied around her waist rocks back and forth on her heels. Her hands clench and then she begins popping each of her finger knuckles with her thumb one at a time. I feel a kinship for her and her nervous vibe.
The overhead speaker announces "All passengers, all rows."
And it is time to join the traveller throng.