I am sitting on a futon in an apartment in Long Beach, California that belongs to two people I met ten minutes ago. On my left is a man I met two weeks ago. On my right is a man I met three weeks ago. I have just agreed to go on an 11-day road trip with the latter two and we leave tomorrow. This is Adventure.
As I was finishing my fourth and final camp of the summer, these two co-counselors I find myself sitting between proposed a road trip. A perpetual sucker for Adventure, I cancel my flight. Now we are looking at a shared Google doc outlining campgrounds, drive time, and how much the rental car will cost.
One of them makes a joke about finding somewhere to play gaga ball (a popular camp game) on the trip. I scroll to the top of the document and add a new section titled “GOALS.” I write each of our names and laugh as we type funny goals and then eventually more sincere ones about stretching in the morning or having meaningful moments in nature.
I think for a moment.
“I don’t want to have a goal.” I finally tell them.
I am tired. I have just wrapped my fourth camp and for three of them my role was Operations Director. For the last camp, I was also the health supervisor. I have spent my summer being organized and keeping people together. I have been on top of things and responsible and focused. I tell them I don’t want to have a goal.
I scroll up to my name and type: “NOT HAVE A GOAL. ALSO WRITE.”
Sometimes, it’s okay to start walking for the sake of walking. Sometimes, it’s alright to not be the person who has a plan. Sometimes, it’s okay to trust that you’re going to be where you need to be. That’s what I am doing now.
Oh… and I guess I hope I write a little bit too. Here goes nothing.