“Is there anything as horrible as starting on a trip? The last moments are earthquake and convulsion, and the feeling you are a snail being pulled off a rock.”--Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea
Oh Anne. You got it. You took many trips, and you knew. You understood that as we discover the world and physically move about the planet, you understood that we discover ourselves on the inner journey that accompanies our travels..That if we are paying attention, and that if we allow it to happen, our journeys will be emotional ones as well as physical ones--and it is my deep, fervent wish that this journey, like Annes’, be an emotional expedition as well as a geographical one.
However.
Dear Anne was not All. Alone.
By herself.
In South Freakin’ America.
And that little (BIG?) fact has caused more consternation in the past few weeks than anything else.
“The trick is not to rid your stomach of butterflies, but to make them fly in formation.” --Pacific Outward Bound School, Book of Readings.
So in an effort to herd in the butterflies, sleep becomes a luxury, and every detail lurks large. When viewed through the lens of anxiety -- the smallest inconsequential detail becomes an extreme emergency to be dealt with NOW--like a wasp that flies into your motorcycle helmet on the highway.
The trick is to plan as much as possible and turn the rest over. That and lots of motivational music.
