When I was sixteen, I wore a floor-length, silver gown to my senior prom. I went out and got my hair done, and I was all careful not to mess it up. I went with my friends and my date and had a normal prom; dancing, chatting, dancing. But when we walked out of the building and took a stroll down the walkway, there he was. Some guy, selling tickets for bungee jumping. Guys. I had never been bungee jumping. So, obviously, there was only one thing to do. Borrow someone's shorts to slide on underneath, and then jump in my prom dress, hanging like a giant silver bell with that skirt up over my head, and then springing up and down, showering bobby pins everywhere.
Lately, I've been reminded of the jitter that washed over me back then, as stepped to the ledge and looked down over my toes. A moment of wocndering whether this was really going to be fun, or scary, or awkward, or worse. And then bending my knees, jumping up! and that moment right before gravity took hold.
Now that our celebration of the past two years is over, my little family is setting our sights on the road ahead. Which I mean both metaphorically and literally. In less than two weeks we will be setting out on a six week adventure through 21 of our great American states, seeing sights, visiting family, and spending so much intense quality family time together that by the time we get to Maryland and J dives into residency, we will be so sick of each other we won't even care. We're getting all our family time for the next two years in one lump sum.
I've been packing things up, folding daily outfits into labeled ziplock bags and such. Because it takes more than a swiss army knife and a flashlight to survive weeks of camping with little people, guys. It takes rabid organization. Even then, it's going to be a bit dicey. But, barring any actual harm of course, catastrophe is part of the thrill of an adventure. We have planned out places to go, things to see, and art projects to while away the driving hours with. But the real fun will be seeing what pops up, what we improvise when it rains (or snows), or a road is closed, or who knows what?
Driving off into unfamiliar territory is a lot like picking up and moving to a new town, a new life. There are a lot of unknowns. A lot of "what if"s. It's good to try to plan ahead, to make things go as smoothly as possible. It's also good to realize that things will go wrong, the plan will be thwarted at times and have to adapt, and so will we.
There's a fine, fine line between adventure and disaster. Where exactly that line falls is often a matter of perspective. I'm looking at this trip- and the move- as a thrill ride to jump on. The Unknown can be frightening. Or it can just be a bunch of awesome waiting to happen.
I looked like a fool and ruined my expensive hair when I jumped on prom night, but it was so worth it. I know that on this trip and in this life, I will look foolish and get messy plenty. But when the Navy says jump, we say "how high?" Because the higher the better! Bring it on.
Lately, I've been reminded of the jitter that washed over me back then, as stepped to the ledge and looked down over my toes. A moment of wocndering whether this was really going to be fun, or scary, or awkward, or worse. And then bending my knees, jumping up! and that moment right before gravity took hold.
Now that our celebration of the past two years is over, my little family is setting our sights on the road ahead. Which I mean both metaphorically and literally. In less than two weeks we will be setting out on a six week adventure through 21 of our great American states, seeing sights, visiting family, and spending so much intense quality family time together that by the time we get to Maryland and J dives into residency, we will be so sick of each other we won't even care. We're getting all our family time for the next two years in one lump sum.
I've been packing things up, folding daily outfits into labeled ziplock bags and such. Because it takes more than a swiss army knife and a flashlight to survive weeks of camping with little people, guys. It takes rabid organization. Even then, it's going to be a bit dicey. But, barring any actual harm of course, catastrophe is part of the thrill of an adventure. We have planned out places to go, things to see, and art projects to while away the driving hours with. But the real fun will be seeing what pops up, what we improvise when it rains (or snows), or a road is closed, or who knows what?
Driving off into unfamiliar territory is a lot like picking up and moving to a new town, a new life. There are a lot of unknowns. A lot of "what if"s. It's good to try to plan ahead, to make things go as smoothly as possible. It's also good to realize that things will go wrong, the plan will be thwarted at times and have to adapt, and so will we.
There's a fine, fine line between adventure and disaster. Where exactly that line falls is often a matter of perspective. I'm looking at this trip- and the move- as a thrill ride to jump on. The Unknown can be frightening. Or it can just be a bunch of awesome waiting to happen.
I looked like a fool and ruined my expensive hair when I jumped on prom night, but it was so worth it. I know that on this trip and in this life, I will look foolish and get messy plenty. But when the Navy says jump, we say "how high?" Because the higher the better! Bring it on.
You and I share the same sense of adventure, an open mindedness to the unknown. "There's a fine, fine line between adventure and disaster." really resonates with me.
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