I have to move in a month. I guess I should start thinking about where. To be fair, I usually don’t give the road even this much notice–and to be doubly fair, I thought I was going back to Key West.

But. . . as I drove down that aqua-rimmed, one-hundred mile stretch, I wasn’t really feelin’ it. I had jumped at the chance to house and kitty-sit for a week, and figured that while I was there I would go and talk to the campground I’d workamped at last season about this season. But the closer I drew to it, the less excited I was. I left part of that plan hanging on each mile marker I passed, and by the time I got to the place where I was going to say, “I want to come back”. . . I couldn’t.

Maybe it was being away that changed me. Maybe Key West changed. There will be no Fantasy Fest this year, no Zombie Bike Ride, but that’s only part of it. Part of me is at moral odds with that little island. The island that often doesn’t feel like an island. But mostly, it’s me. It’s my need to explore and see new faces in new places. It’s my fear that I won’t get to every place I want to be before I. . . go. For good. That’s what really drives me.

I stop and indulge a craving for cheese curds. As soon as I step inside a Culver’s, I’m back in Wisconsin. That’s where its headquarters are and that’s why they have cheese curds. I want something familiar before I change everything again. I want to touch base and then launch. But mostly, I want to remember that I’ve been doing this for almost four years now and I’ve always been okay. Better than okay.

And it’s raining and they’re so warm.

I mull it over as I nibble; consider my options with each chewy gooey bite. I’m time traveling in that blue booth. Backwards to where I’m from and forwards, looking out the window while also looking to the future. And before my head gets too far ahead, I ask my heart. “Where do you want to go.” I love it when I remember to do that.

Back to Wisconsin, she states the obvious and I feel her longing. We were supposed to go this summer but . . . COVID. There would’ve been nothing to go to. Everything was canceled, everyone locked down. Next year. We’ll go next summer, for sure.

I sit in the Target parking lot and open the state park booklet. My trusty guide is well worn and I survey it again for a hint of direction. A starting point. I make some calls and I make some notes. Some stifle a laugh at my lateness and start talking to me about 2022. Can you imagine?! Others are only voicemails where I can try to impart my personality and enthusiasm onto the recording and hope for the best.

And others have had some changes with the COVID still lingering and borders that can’t yet be crossed. I am the queen of cancelations, I muse. As I’m sipping the pumpkin latte I can’t seem to shop without, I write notes atop an empty spot on a shelf where ‘size medium’ is out of stock. I’m the most common size and yet I live a most uncommon life. I consider a new job and a new place to live while also gazing at handbags and wondering if all my shit will fit. And almost with equal concern.

Because it always works out!. . . and always so much better than I could’ve imagined. A friend once tried to get me to go to a vision board party with her. As much as I liked the idea of playing offense instead of defense with our minds, I had to decline. Most of the best stuff in my life has happened without me knowing such a thing was even in the realm of possibility.

In the words of Jed McKenna, “God always gives me better than I would’ve asked for and before I would’ve thought to ask.” *

I know I want to be happy and I know I want to be free. And that may be all I need to know. That’s my vision. And I try every day to be more on the receiving end of it all. To open and allow and remove the blocks I’ve put in my own way.

And there are other times when I simply don’t know what I want. Don’t know what would be best and what would flop like a lead balloon. And in those times, my prayer is: “Show me what I want.”

Juggling a coffee and my future may look crazy to some, but it’s balanced to me. it’s good to hold the decisions of my life lightly, so I’m not so attached that I try to make something happen that really shouldn’t. I hold the reins loosely, so I can be redirected. The Universe knows what’s on the other side–I might be wrong.

Sometimes you try so hard for something and then when you get it, it’s not what you thought it was. It doesn’t make me feel the way I thought it would. But the things that just come to me, those I trust. Because they came from something greater, smarter.

“Sometimes we see only the underside of the tapestry of life. All knots, and gnarls, and missteps. But there is a Master Weaver who sees it from above. And He weaves according to a plan.” **

*From Spiritual Enlightenment, The Damnedest Thing

**From the best Christmas card I’ve ever gotten