I’ve spent the better part of this year learning how to let go of life’s expectations. It seems like a simple thing to do…you know, don’t expect things to be handed to you. Don’t expect my kids to finish their homework on time. Don’t expect to be acknowledged for my _____. (*work, deeds, beauty, whatever). And it’s pretty cool to see what surprises I stumble upon as I live this way. I’ve internally and with a few of my friends have termed this notion, “The Flow.” 

The Flow includes other personal pro-tips like letting go of control. Whether that be relationships or vacations or my day-to-day tasks, part of the joy of The Flow is how things fall into place just as well with little to no effort as they did with moderate to great effort. For instance, as we left for the airport I had not yet booked a stay for San Diego on Wednesday night. I was too busy and distracted and my intuition never really kicked on to say, “Get this done right this minute.” By the time we arrived at the airport my best friend (with whom I am traveling) and her husband remembered that they had Marriott points. By the time we reached our layover in Denver we had a place to sleep that was way nicer than the hovel I would have booked and it was free. That’s not even the best part! The best was that I hadn’t spent hours and hours and hours wasted trying to find the perfect place. I do that. It’s ridiculous. 

The reason we flew into San Diego (2.5 hours away) instead of Palm Springs was because I have a Life List item that I chose to start last year. Put my feet in the ocean every year for 5 years. Last year was San Francisco and I figured Palm Springs was close enough to the ocean that this trip would the perfect opportunity. That right there is where the planning stopped. 

Yesterday morning we woke up and I searched Yelp for a place to eat. We discovered that our favorite breakfast spot in the country, the WHOLE REASON we planned a 6-hour layover in Denver on Monday, had a location in San Diego that was 12 minutes away from the hotel. The Flow. At breakfast I was zooming in on a map of La Jolla beaches and found the La Jolla branch of the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego that was walking distance to the beach. We ended up spending equal or more time at the art museum than we did at the amazing, post-card-like beach that we’ll revisit on Sunday. This wasn’t planned. It was The Flow. And it was perfect. 

I saw an exhibition called Lost in the Memory Palace that shifted my perceptions of what art is. It was immersive and mesmerizing. Fascinating sounds, textures, images, light and whatever else that thing is that I can’t put my finger on. The art-ness, I suppose. I wanted to spent the whole day there. 

I’m in two art shows in the next two weeks. Have I mentioned that? If you have seen me in person I’m sure I have. It’s exciting and a direct result of living in The Flow. Something looks cool, my intuition says yes and I jump right in. It’s exciting and different. Working on the pieces is a meditation for me. I’ve been chasing meditation for YEARS with little success because, apparently, I was chasing it. Wanting to control it. I must sit down and light this candle and wipe my mind and meditate for 15 minutes every morning. LIKE THE BOOK SAYS I SHOULD. 

Or.

I pick up a paintbrush and move my hands. My mind melts empty as I focus on the ever-so-immediate now-ness. My tweezers pinch rhinestone #300 and place it in the glue. I’m only concerned with filling in the rhinestones and singing along to the music on the radio. The Flow is a gorgeous experience.