Last Tuesday in the middle of the chaos of getting the paper out, my friend LP who lives in Vegas shot me a message. The message was three photos of a resort in Puerto Vallarta and a sentence that read: “I stayed at their sister tower next door last time I was there. So when you wanna run away…”
The universe always takes care of us. We all know that. We all believe that (well most of us do any way). Just the day before I realized that the inventory I had ordered for the Teacher Night event I was planning for Clay Street was delayed. The event was going to be moved back two weeks and due to the prep for that event my store was at incredibly low inventory. I had decided to essentially be closed for the next two weeks to clean, rotate inventory, and prep for the event. Besides-no one likes to shop when they’ve seen the same stuff for months.
I replied to her message and said, “Actually I’m off-ish for the next two weeks”.
Our conversation quickly turned to pricing, date options, and excitement of a potential trip to Mexico in just 3 days.
She had had a bad day and I was in the middle of putting the paper out so we agreed it would be best to wait til the next day to make a decision. Don’t wanna do anything too crazy right?
The next morning was Wednesday and I was cleaning like a freak. I had spent the weekend before at the casino for a bachelorette party and still hadn’t unpacked. As I folded laundry I sent a text to LP: “I still haven’t put away my suitcase-I think this is a sign from the universe”.
Two hours or so later our flights, room, and stay was booked. It was official-I was leaving for Mexico the next day. Well technically I didn’t get to Mexico til Friday-had to meet my friend in LA first but that’s all technicalities.
Despite the excitement of a trip back to Mexico (I hadn’t been since I was 16) the anxiety of solo travel to KC, then to LA started to creep in on me. Then the fear of being kidnapped, sex trafficked, forced to smuggle drugs-all the stuff they try and scare us with on the news started to bleed into my normal worries of where to park and would I get stabbed on the shuttle to the hotel in LA.
My husband who I think might truly be the most patient man in the world talked me down off the ledge and assured me that I would be fine. It’s now Monday and I’m writing this from the aeropuerto de Puerto Vallarta, sitting at Puerta 9 waiting on the flight back to LA.
I’m not dead.
I did not get kidnpapped.
I did not get sex trafficked.
I did not get forced to smuggle in drugs.
I got sun, I ate tacos, I had my first margarita in 538 days, I wrote my stories for this week’s paper pool side in Puerto Vallarta and I got to live again for what felt like the first time since coming out of COVID.
This trip reminded me how important it is to explore the world.
To let go of the anxiety that tries to take over my mind and trust in the power, love and safety the universe has over me.
Am I still anxious about catching our connecting flight from LA to Vegas? Yes.
Am I still worried about finding my car when I get back to KC on Tuesday? Yes.
Am I still worried I made a bad choice to leave my family and business for five days to explore a city I hadn’t been to before? Yes.
But all that stuff will work itself out.
We will catch the flight, or at least a flight.
I’ll find my car.
My family will hug me extra, my puppy will lick my face like a psycho.
My business will still be exactly how I left it-needing cleaned, waiting for inventory, ready for the next event.
My friends, I encourage you to do the spontaneous. To jump into an adventure. To say yes to exploration. Even if it’s right in your own town. You never know what you might be missing out on by living with the fear in your head.
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