Wishing and Hoping

I thought I was tired at about 9:15 last night, so I went to bed and turned off the light, but my brain would not STFU. 

Within the first hour, I had to get up to check when my passport expired – July 2012, leaving it 50/50 as to whether I should renew now or later – and I decided to add a cute guy I met almost a month ago as a friend on Facebook, wrote him a cute message from my phone, then decided not to add him.

Mostly, it was my knack for trying to plot every second of my life that got the better of me.  It had me moving to Minnesota, deciding I hate the weather and taking it out on the Scandanavian-bred boyfriend there.  Then it had me knocked up by/in an open relationship with my fallback guy and realizing that it surprisingly worked.  Then it had me meeting and falling for a local boy and then resenting him because his close family ties keep us here.

Um, brain?  STFU!

This was all despite my aha moment I had yesterday.  It was the last day of my FFF vacation in Arizona’s beautiful White Mountains.  Before my sis, her fiance and I took off back to the desert, we went for a family walk.

Do you ever have one of those moments where you look around and think, “wow, this is my life” … good or bad?  Or one of those moments – again, good or bad – when you’re like, “how did I get here?”

Growing up in the Phoenix area and vacaying three hours northeast of there isn’t much of a stretch, but then I started thinking of it from my mom’s perspective. 

Did she plan for a holiday weekend with her hubby and daughters in Show Low?  When she was my age, my parents were married, but having trouble conceiving.  Did she imagine she’d be living in Arizona when she was a freshman in college in Ohio and had just met a guy from Pittsburgh? 

I’m guessing not, but my mom has a wonderful joie de vivre.  She loves where she ended up, but she didn’t plot and plan every second of her life to get there.  The way the story goes, the move to Arizona from the midwest was such a random, spur-of-the-moment decision.

So this is what people mean when they’re all, “live in the moment, man.”  I don’t think I can dream as big as my life is going to end up, so why am I worrying about the details of it?  How can I possibly try to control it and contain it?

This planning thing is not really working out for me.  So tell me WHY it’s keeping me up at night?!

I blame the five-, ten-, fifteen-year plans they made us do in school. Goals are good.  I love goals and think it’s important to teach kids that they have to pursue the goals instead of just thinking they’ll happen, but giving kids the idea that they can plot, plan and predict every moment of their life is just a little boring! 

I uploaded some of the FFF pics to Facebook last night and ended up going through some of my older ones.  I realized that a lot of the great periods of my life, the great memories, kind of happened unexpectedly.  They were things I jumped into without thinking about it too much.

The unexpected is unexpectedly worth it.  Dream big took on a whole new meaning for me yesterday. 

And in the end, I watched four episodes of The Office on Hulu before I could fall asleep.


One thought on “Wishing and Hoping

  1. I’m rather prone to the over-think myself, though it rarely keeps me up at night. Mostly I worry that it keeps me at a standstill: that I’m so busy seeing all the potential outcomes from any decision that I end up having a hard time making them.

    On the other hand, it makes me an empathetic person, because I can usually see both sides to an argument.

    At the same time, I wouldn’t be too dismissive of your inclination to think things out, if I were you. I’ve known many people who have had success by “living in the moment”, but I also know of those who have leapt before the looked, and ended up wishing they’d looked first. Sometimes caution is the better part of valor, you know?

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