In less than two months, our visas are up, as is the lease on our apartment. It feels weird to have a deadline. They’ve been few and far between on this journey of no fixed plans, so I oscillate between dread and excitement as it approaches.
It’s not so much a case of how we feel about heading off to Guatemala in early February, it’s a question of how we feel about it today.
Our feelings change from minute to minute, day to day, and we have come to embrace this mixture of emotions which contradict and wrestle each other in a subtle tug of war.
Though ‘war’ would be the wrong word to use today. Today, I’m embracing the ‘I don’t know, not really sure-ness‘ of our approaching departure, which is laden with equal amounts of excitement and fear.
I am reminded of all the irrational fears I am faced with when change approaches (What if we don’t like it? – we go back, what if we find somewhere else we love and we don’t come back to Playa? – we will be happy, that’s a good thing) and how they are similar to those I had before we left Australia, only now they hold far less power over me because I have seen how the journey has panned out.
I’m almost reveling in the mix of emotions, for once being able to embrace the fact that I want to stay and go at the same time. I’m accepting the fact that it will be hard to leave behind the life we have found here, it will be hard to drive to another country, to decide what to do and where to go afterwards, because in my experience, the hard things are the good things.
I say ‘the life we have found’, because that’s the way it feels. We stumbled upon it without any expectations or intentions, which are always how the best things happen. We didn’t build a life here, it built itself around us, and it’s been the best year of both our lives.
Another reason to go with the flow, methinks, to let the rest of our lives unfold rather than be controlled. I’m like a child who wants to hold the pretty baby bird so tightly because it is The Best Thing Ever, but we all know that squished baby birds are not.
It’s not easy to let go, but it’s better.
It allows space for Life to happen.
And if this whole experience has taught me anything, it is that Life has a better plan for me than I could ever dream up.
I’ve also come to embrace the dwindling of time (after wrestling with the concept for a while) as a necessary motivator. Fittingly, good things are happening here for us. Tyrhone has been offered a new web design project for a large company and I’ve had a burst of inspiration for a new writing project. Of course, there is “Not enough time!” because “It’s almost Christmas!” and we have so many things to do while sharing a computer (Tyrhone’s broke and he is waiting on another) – it is always the way.
It is always the way, that when faced with limitation, life expands to fill the time we have. It’s a like knowing life is short and we must make the most of it, but struggling to practice it until faced with death, our own or someone close to us.
It is both a gift and a curse to be limited by time, but mostly a gift, for it allows us the pleasure to dive into our lives as though it were a dwindling ocean, to appreciate the brightness of it as though a fleeting supernova.
I’m being a little dramatic, of course, for it is in my nature to wrestle with Life, which flows surely as a breeze, unquestioning itself, through all my worry and fear; planning and excitement.
Occasionally though, I’m given a glimpse of its wonder and I step back in windswept awe and say, “Wow.”
Photo of Lake Atitlan, Guatemala by Jimmy Dau.