My Last Minute Life

I’m no good at leaving places, because I’m no good at planning anything. Having some money in the bank, booking a plane ticket, and packing a bag (without forgetting my passport) is my idea of really having my shit together. It’s when I arrive at the airport, like I did today, in complete and total disarray, that my ridiculous reality reveals itself.

Rewind a few hours to me packing for an open-ended trip south. In what became, as it always does, the hour of franticness, I packed more of what I didn’t need and less of what I did. Who takes two sweatshirts and two base layers to hot, humid Nicaragua? I did that.

And now, here I am. Outside the international terminal of LAX. Carelessly, I haven’t even checked my departure airline. And unless I can get my expired phone linked up to WiFi, I’ll be out of luck. I’m walking a thin line, here.

After some time fumbling with a weak connection, I figure out I’m in the wrong terminal altogether. My layover is in Vegas, so I’m flying domestic. Okay, that’s one thing sorted, but what about the onward ticket I never purchased? I need proof of leaving Nicaragua in order to be let in on a 90-day tourist visa. And it’s something I’ll apparently need to figure out before even checking my bag. Anxiety sets in like the familiar fog of this morning’s hangover. A cold beer sounds like the right remedy, but there are a few things to be sorted beforehand.

My under-preparedness is stifling, but realistically there’s no other way. Some deep breaths and I’ll have to get on with it. I don’t plan well, and I know that if I plan things too far in advance I’ll end up talking myself out of ever doing anything. I change my mind so chronically, in fact, that a friend recently observed it may be in my best interest to never make plans further than a day in advance. Because if given the time I will change my mind. And it will be—as it always is—frantic, and totally last minute.

I may not have thought so far in advance about buying an onward ticket, and I may have no idea how to get where I’m going after my plane lands, but these are a few of many things I’ll wind up procrastinating indefinitely.

Which brings us here. I’m finishing this post from a woven hammock at GM Granada Hostel in Granada, Nicaragua, enjoying a cold Toña, and watching the beautiful tortugas relax by their pond. I count 11 turtles. Luck, fortunately seemed to be on my side on this one. In the end I was never asked by anyone to present proof of onward travel. I caught the first taxi from the airport in Managua willing to take me to the city of Granada per my offer. And now I can laugh at the fact that in spite of my logistical ill-preparedness, I made it to exactly where I want to be.

Never ‘Enough’

Nothing is ever ‘enough’ for you.  

My friend said this to me yesterday, but she isn’t the first. My Ex had emphatically expressed the same sentiment for years.

I considered the comment. Wellthat’s a good position to be in… I said, unsure whether to feel critical of my demanding nature, or perhaps self-assured by it.

Don’t you think? I added.

The truth is that I don’t want to find my happiness living an ordinary life. I want seek out experiences that turn my stomach to knots. I want to take chances, to laugh wildly (if at times nervously) in the midst of uncertainty. I choose to be restless and unsatisfied. And I only hope that I may continue to passionately  chase my dreams, that I may continue to dream, knowing that as long as I live I will never have experienced “enough”.

Of course, plenty of people living ordinary lives seem much happier than me.  They have a Doctor they see, and a Dentist. They attend community events, and grow gardens. They have families, and foundations, and love surrounding them. They have a network of support within their communities. They celebrate holidays, and plan their vacations properly. They punctuate their calendars with exclamation points!! They feel comfortable in their homes and their careers, as they build a future.

I, on the other hand, live out of a backpack. I moved to Olympia a few months ago, where I sleep on a couch in the living room of a friend’s apartment. I’m leaving my new job in a few weeks. I feel pretty lonely because I haven’t been here long enough to make strong connections. I daydream constantly. I am constricted because I don’t have a car, and my new bike was stolen. I imbibe considerably, and complain that I’m not hiking enough. My life is very far from perfect, which is everything I need.

I can- and I will- demand more. This place is as temporary as anywhere else, because what I’m looking for isn’t a place to settle into, but rather a point to jump off from. Although it has led me on some unnerving adventures, my passion is ultimately what guides me. And I like that. I like asking my heart, Where to next?