I’m not comfortable being a guest in someone else’s space. By which I mean I’m not comfortable staying with someone else as a guest while they’re there. I have an invite to stay at an friend/acquaintance’s house just outside of St. Louis. I’m not sure I want to go – to his house or to St. Louis. I like St. Louis. I almost moved there. I had a good time the one and only time I visited. But I’m wondering if I need/want to go back.
As I write this, I’m sitting in my Airbnb in downtown Memphis drinking my morning coffee and trying to get to the heart of my decision paralysis. As such, I’m also realizing how my mind is quite bad at anticipating whether or not I’ll enjoy something (by which I mean, my mind anticipates the worst and is almost always wrong). Unfortunately, the barriers to joy are easier to imagine than the potential of finding joy. I’m sitting here thinking, he lives outside of St. Louis, which means if I want to explore, I’ll have to drive into the city, find parking, deal with traffic, etc. etc. etc. He’s only an acquaintance, which means we might not have much to talk about, it could be awkward, and I may not feel free to come and go as I please (I might feel obligated to hang out with him). What will I do in St. Louis, do I really need to aimlessly wander around another city, especially one that I’ve wandered around before?
Of course there are counter-arguments to those thoughts. I’m torn on staying outside of the city. I wouldn’t stay in Bucks County if I wanted to spend the bulk of my time in Philly… but I once stayed in San Marcos and visited lots of towns in and around San Diego – which I thoroughly enjoyed. He is only an acquaintance and it could be awkward, but it could also be an opportunity to get to know him better. We could end up having a really good time. As for what I’d do in St. Louis, all of their art museums and parks are free, and I’d do what I do in every city – explore and meander about.
As I’m contemplating my next stop, I’m gently chastising myself for spending my time thinking about my next stop. Focusing on what comes next or what progress I’m making is precisely the habit I’m trying to soften, if not break. It’s hard, and I have to remind myself to “be here, now.” The thing is, I really like to know what comes next. Moreover, I’m constantly feeling and fighting this slight tug to get to my final destination. As much as I’ve tried to convince myself that this is an open-ended adventure, that I might choose a different end-destination along the way, that I have no set time-frame, I can sense that I’m not really that carefree or open. The dissonance between how I wish to appear (carefree, spontaneous, and completely open to any opportunity I uncover) and how I feel in my gut and mind (this is fun, but at some point, I have to get back to real life – as though this isn’t real life) is bothersome.
Where I’m a little disappointed in myself is that weighing the pros and cons of visiting St. Louis or meeting up with my friend/acquaintance doesn’t feel in keeping with the spirit of this trip. And I know the big, over-arching factor is that I’m slipping back into my deficit mentality. I’m slipping back into being and acting risk averse. It might not work out or be worth my time, so maybe don’t do it. I’m slipping back into “normal” life mode: get a place to live, get a job, settle in, explore my new place. I’m slipping back into my comfort zone. To some extent, I’m waiting for a mental switch to flip. I’m waiting for vacation mode (which tells me I only have so much time, make it count) to morph into lifestyle mode (which says go do it, what do you have to lose).
The truth is, I don’t think I’ve ever been traveling for more than ten days straight. Today is day twenty. At some point, I’m expecting the thrill of the unknown to overtake my desire for certainty and stability. It hasn’t happened yet. I’m expecting winging it to become easier and feel more natural. It hasn’t happened yet. I still weigh my options as though I have somewhere to be and something to do. Despite the many experiences I’ve had to the contrary, I still anticipate the hassles of getting out of my comfort zone more than the joys of the undiscovered. For whatever reason (most likely human nature and decades of conditioning), I can’t shrug off this sense of time is a tickin’. I’ve been on the road for twenty days, and I’m only as far as Memphis, TN. I still have (maybe St. Louis), Kansas City, Tulsa, Austin, Sedona, Joshua Tree, San Diego, Los Angeles, and wherever else on the list. Add to this the nagging mental calculations of hotel stays, meals, and possibly another month of storage and healthcare, and I’m beginning to realize just how un-carefree my mind is.
I can’t rule out that some of this “relapse” into old mindsets has to do with staying in Memphis. It’s a city firmly rooted in my comfort zone. It’s a city that doesn’t challenge me – which, in some ways, feels nice. In favor of being in the present moment, I’ll put off deciding on St. Louis for at least another day (maybe two) and enjoy this time in my snug, little comfort zone.