Summer's Ending, What's Next?

We’re getting really good at not knowing what comes next.

Which is funny, because in my old life, I was very good at knowing. There were schedules. Places we needed to be. Appointments, school, work, weekends, weekdays. Even when we didn’t have plans, there was usually a pretty clear idea of what was coming next. That's how it had to be (with work, school, extracurriculars etc) and on the one hand, I loved that.

I’m a planner. A project planner, specifically. Give me something to organize and a future to map out and I’m very happy. Give me a calendar and colored markers and man am I happy...I brainstorm, connect the dots in my head and have it all planned out, with every possible outcome planned and covered. I’ve also learned that this particular strength can sometimes have a slightly less glamorous side.

We went on a 3 day hike- hubby planned it out.

Sometimes I plan because planning is useful and productive. And sometimes I plan because it gives me something to focus on other than whatever is happening right now. I can live in a future scenario, and not be living the current one. So as to avoid getting perhaps uncomfortable or bored. My resilience work, and getting to know myself and my personality better, has helped me see that distinction.

Then we started traveling. And wow, did that challenge me. In the beginning, we wanted to stay about a month in each place. Which sounds lovely and spontaneous until you realize that I was sometimes sitting in a beautiful place with my family, already researching and contacting people about the next place. Night after night. Reading and writing messages, searching for good profiles on websites.

Definitely present and enjoyed the amazing Norwegian scenery on our recent adventure.

I was physically "there"/at our current spot (which were all pretty amazing now that I think about it). But mentally, I was already somewhere else. Planning to make sure our future spot was also amazing. And of course, the funny thing is that the next place didn’t always work out anyway. Things fell through. Plans changed. Opportunities appeared that we never could have planned for.

And somehow, everything always unfolded beautifully.

We just couldn’t always see it coming. Well, I couldn't see it coming. My husband can let go and trust certain things like this much better than I can. Over the last three and a half years, we’ve changed our way of traveling several times. We’ve evolved from moving frequently to staying for longer periods, and now we’re much more drawn to spending at least a whole season somewhere. We also tie in visits with old friends and family "back home" whenever we can to strengthen those ties.

At the same time, there has been this giant question hanging over our lives the entire time: What if the green card comes through?

For three and a half years, we’ve known that at any moment we might suddenly need to change everything, pack up, and move our family across the ocean to be closer to my family in America. So… there hasn’t exactly been a lot of room for pretending we know what the next year looks like.

And I think that has been one of the greatest gifts of this life. I’m learning to have a direction without gripping too tightly to the route. To have an idea, a hope, even a plan—but still look up from the plan long enough to notice what is actually happening. Because some of the most beautiful experiences we’ve had recently were the ones we nearly said no to precisely because they were so last-minute.

The last minute Island retreat that we helped with (last minute for us- they had been planning it for a while!).

Helping with a retreat here in Norway. Suddenly rowing a Viking ship. Finding ourselves on an island along this incredible coastline. Being part of something we hadn't planned for at all. We almost didn’t say yes. And then it turned out to be absolutely wonderful. That seems to be happening a lot lately. And somewhere along the way, this has become a spiritual practice for me too.

Not in a particularly complicated or profound way. Just learning to pay attention. To nature. To people. To what feels aligned. To the opportunities that appear. To the quiet little nudges that say, Maybe this. Our spirituality has always been woven into this life in some way—through nature, meditation, yoga, prayer, and the people we meet who are doing good things for their communities and the world around them. But lately I’ve been noticing how many different forms spirituality can take.

Here, I’ve been learning more about art and song, about the power of using your voice, even about making little beaded earrings. I learned something recently that really stayed with me: traditionally, Indigenous peoples in North America didn’t originally have the glass beads we associate with some forms of their beadwork and jewelry nowadays. Seeds were used, and the act of creating could be a form of prayer. Each seed was sometimes sewn with a prayer or intention in it- as it was weaved into a piece of jewelry. Which, if you've see some of this jewelry- are A LOT of prayers going into these little pieces of art.

See those earrings? Made them myself!

I love that idea. That something so ordinary—making something with your hands—can also be an act of intention, gratitude, connection or prayer. And maybe that’s what I’m learning in a much bigger sense. That life doesn’t always need to be approached as a project to complete. I can have a goal. I can make a plan. I can know roughly where I’d like to go. And still leave enough space to notice that maybe something else is unfolding. And as I'm creating the plan, the project or creating something else- to be more present and bringing my prayers back in the moment.

Maybe we stay in Norway for a bit longer than the summer. Maybe the green card news comes next week and suddenly everything changes again. Maybe I get an amazing online job that aligns so well with us and our life that we change plans completely. (hint-hint)

Who knows?

And honestly, I’m getting much better at being able to say that, mean it and trust it.

We’ll see.

There’s something pretty exciting and peaceful about those two little words.

Us on a speed boat, riding off into the unknown!