Sweaty Palms

Someone is going to have to shove me out my front door.. yes, I said it. Drag me, heels locked, into the unknown. The second I get out of my driveway, everything will be fine- it's just that act of leaving that guarantees an ulcer.

I'm a control freak and find comfort in dotting every i and crossing every t. I'm a planner, an organizer, I've got my hand in every pot.. The idea of a goal or a clearly outlined expectation is as exciting and fulfilling to me as handing out Christmas presents to orphan strangers.

There's just one problem. No one told me that I wasn't going to have a plan. Nope, not in Europe, and not for SIX months. "Go with the flow, it will be amazing." "You can't plan there, you don't know where life will take you.." "Be receptive to change"....I have no qualms that it will be all of those things..HOWEVER, have you ever told a porcupine to be less sharp, a whale to just breathe through their mouth?

I'm not saying it's impossible, but more often than not, this leaves me with really sweaty palms. "Where will we stay?" Shouldn't we book a hostel?" "What about the reviews.... what is the weather like there?" BAM. Sweaty palms.

How in the world do I have sweaty palms lying in bed? This is some sick physiological joke... Okay body, listen here and listen good! Stop eroding my stomach wall, and tell the adrenaline pumping through my endocrine system to leave my damn palms alone. I can't sleep, and can hardly sit still.

As the temptation to plan looms over my head like a baby at a mother's leg, I find myself walking away. "Walk away from the computer Madeline" Walk away from your urge to plan, rid your self of expectation-- Happiness and payoff will follow. What you will learn about yourself and about this world will supersede anything you give into this moment..

But as for now........... I need a tissue, my palms are starting to sweat.