The Best Laid Plans
Hi... remember me?
You'd really never know how much I love to write... and you certainly wouldn't understand how much I like sharing my writing. No, not if we were to use this haphazard blog full of gigantic gaps as evidence. I kept promising myself I'd start writing again, I swear. I carried journals to the beach on many occasions, made list after list of tantalizing topics to tell about, drafted a few paragraphs here and there, planned to publish a post...
The best laid plans...
These plans fell through out of sheer laziness and complacency. My book was too good, my eyelids too heavy, a conversation too tempting, online shopping overly enticing, and most commonly, a Netflix binge consuming any evident energy. This complacency was not always apparent, no, it has grown over time. It is something that has allowed me to hibernate in the frien-emy we call "Comfort Zone."
I had never planned to stay in Anguilla for this long, I didn't really have a specific plan regarding length of time beyond the initial six-month contract. Signing on for another two years was not an easy decision. Easy when it came to teaching some of the most incredible kids, yes, that part was a no-brainer! I did, however, feel very anxious about my personal life, pushing myself to fight the intense loneliness that would inevitably take over in those early days...months... years. In fact, it took about two years in total before things finally felt not only comfortable, but like home. At that point, I'd seen some of best of myself and some of the worst of myself. I had a heightened self awareness though. The more aware I have become, the more I realize that I have been feeling pretty dull, convinced I've lost the spark and sunshine of the personality that allowed me to travel Europe alone, take on dares of cliff jumping in the Australian outback, lead a pack of guests at a hostel in Amsterdam, and share exotic memories with strange and interesting people around the world. I have lost the feeling of drive, inspiration, and sparkle (yes, this is a feeling, or so I've decided). I have little to talk about outside of island-life anecdotes. I've lost the motivation to explore my cookbooks, happy to have a Costco black-bean burger every damn night of the week. I've become uncomfortably accepting of men valuing me as a physical object, or the white girl they've always dreamed of trying. I'm getting by and not unhappy... but I could be so much more.
Now, I'm not here to drudge on about complacency, nor to complain about feeling dull. I'm here to talk about the plan that derived out of said complacency, the need to close a chapter and to experience the tingling sensation that comes with diving into the unknown. The overwhelming yet delicious concoction of fear and excitement that comes with change.
After some intense soul searching on the edge of perfection with my Dutch queens and over instant coffee with my newfound Croatian brothers, I realized it was time for a new chapter. The drive, the inspiration, the sparkle, it was never gone, just taking an extended snooze and needs to be woken up.
So this past August, I came back to Anguilla more clearheaded than ever... I had a plan. This was going to be the last year and I planned to make it the best yet. The universe, however, had a different plan as per the latter. This year has challenged me head on... literally... like a human head print or two on my windshield...
I've dealt with privacy invasion after catching my neighbor peeping on me twice over the span of 2 months... never really knowing how many times there were in total. I lost the feeling of comfort in what had been my home for nearly three years. I moved into a new place which is best described by the phrase "a series of unfortunate events (and then some)." After three months, I was kicked out and forced to find a new place to live, a warped experience I took as a blessing in disguise. I learned a lot about relationships and the friendships I have, loosing several nearby and abroad. I battled the numbing pain of a strained nerve in my knee and the hot stabbing pins of what I assume to be plantar fasciitis in my heel. Oh yes, and let's not forget the surprise appearance of the ever-so-ugly hot-tub staph infection that took over my chin.
Disclaimer: I opted to share the moderately ugly stage as my photo. I'd really like you to read on without a stomach ache...
I'd like to say that I met each and every one of these hurdles with grace, but I'd be full of shit. The plan, however, has remained. This is my final year in Anguilla, even if a messy one.
Things started making sense when I received my offer to teach and live in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. Security in my plan... as well as guacamole, cheap produce, tackling the Spanish-fluency dream, and did I mention guacamole? Everything felt right, excitement in this new chapter prevailed over fear.
And then suddenly, it didn't feel right.
Now here is where I point out the title of this post, "The Best Laid Plans." I felt confidence in my decision and stopped my search. I threw my hands up, raised the roof, and opened my big fat trap, exclaiming that I'd be living on tacos and horchata in the near future. I couldn't fathom letting go of that plan, but I also could not ignore the red flags, couldn't ignore the signs from the universe any longer. Mexico was not and is not meant to be. Adios guacamole baths.
So where does this leave me now? Well, it's taken me awhile to accept it but right now I have no plan. I am creeping closer to the end of my Anguilla chapter and have no clue what lies beyond my time here. That scares the crap out of me, scares me so much that I've considered throwing the towel in, giving up the plan altogether, taking back my intent to leave, and spending another year in Anguilla. And no, that is not a terrible plan to have, not at all, I would have a phenomenal class, an apartment I love, another year of paradise, and some more time with the few people that have become my family here... oh and with "Comfort Zone." It's not the right plan for me anymore and though it terrifies me, I need to trust that the best laid plans were meant to get shaken up, they were meant to stall me for something grander. A more perfect journey.
I have to believe it will all work out, just as it is meant to, just as it always has.
This morning Facebook's "On This Day" had me reflecting on the many times the best laid plans fell through, paving the way for something so much better, so much more perfect.
When I graduated Binghamton University, I planned to complete a masters at Georgia State University in conjunction with the Peace Corps. I then decided to scrap that, in order head off to backpack seven countries in Europe for a month.
When London internet got too pricey, I stopped going on, missing the cancellation for my stay at Cocomama in Amsterdam. I showed up after my first missed flight and a nightmare of a commute with a rude tram driver, surprising the two hostel owners who unbeknownst to me would later become my bosses and best friends.
Had I won, I would have cancelled my plan to go work at Cocomama in Amsterdam for three months, missing the chance to take this photo "on this day" six years ago. I wouldn't have been there to learn of the massive size and endless options a Dutch lunch entails while rocking what-would-become my iconic tie-dye smurf shirt. This photo then paved the way for countless learning experiences, incredible interactions with people from around the world, the growth and strengthening of my work ethic, the increase in my confidence, the firming of my thighs from running up and down the hostel steps, and a plethora of travel endeavors.
And just as the story goes today, there were plenty of setbacks, most of which occurred in Portugal...
The best laid plans, right? Although more often than not, the plan has changed, everything has always worked out as it should. It has all made me stronger, taking me on my personal journey, helping bring me to where I am today. With that, I must believe this time will be no different.
Time will tell...
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