When the two-year itch returns,

expectations are often pulling the strings

The two-year itch has returned. This time, I am determined to harness its energy into a new project rather than follow my recent pattern of diving head-first into a move to a new place. Not that places aren’t calling to me. The just finished trip to Mexico triggered a whole lot of “what ifs”.

San Cristóbal de Las Casas in the state of Chiapas tugs at my heart. The people, the colors and rhythms, the parades and the costumes and cultures of the many indigenous peoples, all play on my senses like the marimba notes that drift around the corner from where I was staying. “I could live here,” is a repeating refrain. 

However, there’s also a shadow side in play which showed up in a recent word flow about expectations, reminding me once again of their danger. In spite of my efforts to avoid expectations, they have once again crept up on me and added to spiraling tizzy of thinking a new place might fill the empty place left by the disappointment of unfulfilled expectations.

Not only do I need a project, I need to wander around in a world that wakes up my senses with its strangeness and beauty which send me tingling into wonder and awe. I’m toward the end of my trail and all the rational thinkers tell me to beware, not to run out of money for when I need someone to “take care of me.” 

Now, it seems like life is giving me a decision: dry up within a pod of safety or throw my whole self into the world and trust that I will have the wherewithal to deal with whatever comes my way. I know that this is a decision based on privilege. I have the physical and mental health and resources now to deal with whatever comes my way. 

That may not be true later. I may become dependent on someone else or a drain on our financial system. I’ve always told myself that I would opt out at that point … however, I know that is fanciful thinking. I might not have the capacity to make that opt-out decision.

Who knows what decision I’ll make tomorrow or next week. However, on this day of completing 78 trips around the sun, I intend to choose life and look for a project that will engage me in the process of seeing, creating, and sharing beauty. Possibilities are knocking at my door, however, I’m still waiting for one that will ring the bell.

What about a long belated gap-year?

After one of those multi-legged trips that creates anxiety and sleepless fatigue, the idea of a gap year began to pinball off the canyons of my brain. What if I dedicated the coming year to following my own impulses and whatever the Universe brings my way? What if I gambled some of my precious resources (finances and energy) on experiential learning, traveling, audacious new projects? What if I gave myself the gap year that I didn’t even know was a possibility so many long years ago?

hmmmmmmm ….