say yes

I recently realized how strict my routine has become, or perhaps how strict some part of myself feels that it should be. It is easy to fall into a routine and exist within it. There is a certain comfort that comes with knowing what's next.

Here's a new one for ya: all of the pictures in this post actually relate to the content.

So, every day, I visit my favorite coffee shop, I talk to my favorite people, and I hike to my favorite places to read my favorite book for the 7th time. See, I have a habit of finding the things I love and staying close to them, rarely straying unless challenged.

I do not take kindly to being told what I can and cannot do, to people trying to tell me how I should spend my time. At work, I take this as a challenge to find a way to do the project that seems impossible. In my personal life, I take this as a challenge to my agency.

I have struggled with this since arriving in Albania both personally and professionally, but where I have noticed it most is in the way that my brain reacts to a challenge to my agency and how that reaction is manifested in my life. I was 18 when I moved out of my parent's house. I was 16 when I could just get in my car and go. I was even younger when I decided that it was time for me to stop depending on my parents to pay for the things that I wanted to do. It has been a long time since I have answered to anyone for the things that I do every day and the decisions I make. Though I feel a responsibility to live a life that would make my parents proud and set an example worthy of following for the three young minds I love most in the world, ultimately I can, and do, do what I want.

So the story goes that this is the footprint of Saint Abaz Aliu, the marking of his staff, and the hoof print of his horse. This is where you make wishes, light candles, and stare in awe at the coolness.

Culture in Albania is different. When people ask me about my life in America, I am often met with stunned faces and a plethora of follow-up questions. The years I spent living alone, the semester I had a male roommate, the walks alone to and from campus every day intrigue people. The idea that my parents don't have much of a say in my actions and decisions, or really that my parents largely don't know about my actions and decisions, is completely bizarre. Here, I can't walk out a door without having to explain myself to anyone and everyone around me. I am told what shoes I should or shouldn't be wearing. I am told what meals I should eat and how much I should eat. I am told where I should go, when I can go, and that I should never go alone. Honestly, it has worn on me, because with every suggestion, my agency feels just a little bit more threatened, and I feel a need to rebel and prove my ability to make my own decisions.

So, last week I was walking to the canyon when a car rolled to a stop beside me on the long, sparsely populated, winding country road leading to the canyon. See, I have this habit of walking at dusk because I have a soft place in my heart for sunsets. However, people don't just walk alone here. So here I am, walking alone at dusk, searching for new angles of the sunset, and a car rolls up. I roll my eyes thinking one of the young boys who often drive by to look at the crazy hiking American decided he would show off his English skills in front of his friends, but instead, I turned to see a friendly face, one inviting me on an adventure.

Photo Credits to Giuseppe. Wowza. Just a note though, this picture happened at approximately minute 13 of the 10 hour hike, and I was, in fact, already drenched in sweat.

The part of me that wanted to cling to the control of the situation, continue on my evening stroll, and return back to my apartment having seen what I wanted to see, having experienced what I wanted to experience, and having accomplished what I wanted to accomplish, wanted to say no. However, for some unknown reason, I said yes. I jumped in the car, and I found myself at a tekke ten minutes later. I learned the ritual and the history behind the place, I made my wish, and I lit my candles. As I backed out of the tekke, so as to never turn my back on the light inside, I caught a glimpse of the sunset I had set out to chase that evening. What an incredible evening, and all I had to do was let go, and say yes.

I have this habit of using my evening sunset chases to talk with friends. It's great because I look like a lunatic walking around town seemingly talking to myself animatedly as I catch up with my friends via my headphones. So the other day I was out walking and talking animatedly with another volunteer when I saw a friend of mine in the middle of the road. He stopped me and asked if I wanted to join him for a hike of a nearby canyon the following morning. Again, my need for control kicked in because I had planned a lovely day of doing everything I do every day, and this really threw a wrench in my plans of being really boring. The thing is, I love to hike, but I also like to be in control of how, when, and where I am going. However, Giuseppe has the most expectant and excited face when he talks about adventures, and I just couldn't say no.

More photo credits to Giuseppe, and I just want to note that those rocks over there that look steep and inhospitable to trekkers, we trekked 'em. (responsible for wipeouts 1-4)

So the next morning, I woke up and headed down for our "4-5 hour trek". Ten hours, 30 km, 50,000 steps, 2 major wipeouts, 4 minor wipeouts, 2 rakis, and far too much cheese later, I walked into my apartment with the absolute certainty that I had seen some of the most beautiful views that this world has to offer. However, I did miss out on some reading time for my 7th read through of Harry Potter... let's all laugh together that I considered spending the day re-reading instead of exploring.

Saying yes means letting go. It means letting go of control, and grasping onto something unknown. It also means opening up to things, people, experiences that are waiting just out of reach of the leash you've kept yourself tied to. For me, that leash keeps me grounded. It lets me know what's next. It also, though, gives me an excuse to stay where I am, because I am tied to a leash after all. The thing is that life may be beautiful where I am, but if I never venture off, I'll never know how beautiful it could be.

Hey, guess what, photo credits to Giuseppe, and wow, Albania, you're really pullin' out all the stops.

So say yes. Get out of the routine you've come to expect. Experience new things. Let go of control. Loosen the leash. You may find some incredible something that will change your life, or perhaps just your day. Either way, it seems to me to be worth the chance.

I'll leave you with this: the other day, my mom asked me for one piece of advice that I would give to kids graduating 5th grade. Over the years, one thing I have learned that I wish I would have known back then is simply, find out what rocks in life, and do it every chance you can. For me, saying yes rocks.