When you spend three weeks in Wales doing a thing you’ve been planning and thinking about for… honestly… four years… you end up feeling like you’re flying through the air a lot. And not so much just because you spend a cumulative 20+ hours in jet planes and over the Atlantic ocean, but maybe a lot like flying dreams — swooping dreams. And occasionally, like my smartphone must feel every time I accidentally hurl it through the air. (That’s been happening a lot lately. Uh.)
In this case, flying through the air (figuratively, at least) makes me think transition transition transition, and wonder what I can do with that. Because I spend far too much time in my head, and in periods of moderate stress I certainly overanalyze the living shit out of whatever I’ve got my hands on. What is the nature of a transition? I abandon that one, because hell if I know. How can I use this transition in a sneaky and clever way? Ooh, that one I can sink my teeth into.
And once I’m nearing the end of the transition (or at least the most obvious bit of it), I realize that not only do I feel fantastic about using this transition to accomplish whatever I happen to desire, I am also fully aware of the fact that the transition is almost entirely out of my control. At least, in any sort of conscious, purposeful way. And that whatever is going on now, it tastes a hell of a lot like fate.
Of course, it’s not necessarily fate. And disempowering myself by saying “fate” instead of “Megan” is not really what I’m going for here. (Not a good idea, either.) But the more I dwell on the whole situation, the more “fate” sounds like “Megan”. The more I do, the more I’m it.
It feels really, really good.
So where do we go from here?
I didn’t have the luxury to ask that question when we returned from Wales on August 15th. We got home in the evening and my manic, sleep deprived brain decided that I’d better unpack. (Unpacked luggage has a long shelf life in this apartment — not that it was a conscious decision, because I guarantee you it wasn’t.) And then we slept for three months, and then we woke up August 16th and got to work on the inevitable catch-up. Three weeks in Wales is a lot of alternate dimension mojo for any workflow to contend with, I’m sure you’ll agree.
And today… today I woke up in a different way. You know that weird clarity? Where you’re almost seeing right into the future and feeling a tingle, like your Spidey-sense, telling you exactly where to look for the next moment? (Or the next zombie, if you’re Marty.) That’s what I’ve got floating around inside my head, under my skin. Going, ooh, ooh, pick me! pick me!
Yeah. Zowie!
But first things first: Wanna hear about our trip!?
Check this shit out — on SlideShare, or download the PDF right quick.
Megan Elizabeth Morris (aka MEM, Megan the M.) is a bonafide professional catalyst and adventurer. She's the Ideaschema instigator, orchestrator and autodidact, and you can find out more about her by clicking here.Got an idea? Something we haven't thought of? Whatever you're thinking, we want to hear it. Please feel free to leave comments or email us by clicking here.
