up a creek, without a shoe

A while back, I came to the realization that life is always better when I challenge my normal. I promised myself that I would never shy away from an opportunity to do something different. Perhaps, this is better described as, I never say "no" to adventure. I think this is important to me because it is so easy to get stuck in the monotony, the routine of it all, that we can literally miss all of the adventure that comes with taking chances, doing something out of the ordinary, or just taking a different road. Today, that value did a few things for me. First, it led me down a different road home. Second, it led me to a wet, barefoot adventure. Finally, it reminded me of an important truth: walking barefoot sucks.

Well would you look at that.. Mohri added a random picture that has nothing to do with anything. Very uncharacteristic, I know.

So this adventure began by my own decision on behalf of my sitemates that, no, we didn't want a ride home, we wanted to walk. We started the journey with the intention of stopping for a drink in the village nearest our own, and we decided that we wanted to take the scenic shortcut through the fields and backroads rather than walk the long stretch of highway that we know all too well. So there we were, in business casual attire, hiking through the fields. We had been assured that the river we would have to cross was "just a hop" over "2 inches" of water, so when we arrived at the river, I looked down at the bank I would have to descend and realized that the world looks very different to 6 foot tall men in hiking attire. Nevertheless, there we were, and my 6 foot friends hopped right on over. So I slid on down that bank in my business casual flats like an absolute professional, I'll let you decide whether the professionalism was based on dress or skill, but that's neither here nor there as what came next negates both of those statements.

I felt my shoe catch under a stray piece of fallen bamboo and saw it fly off in slow motion into the river, all the while thinking about the discarded razors I had just slid past on the bank. Standing on the edge of the three foot wide river, looking at the mossy rock that was my landing target, it became clear to me that I was not only going home with one shoe, but also undoubtedly wet. Despite my friends' attempts to keep me out of the water, bare feet and wet, mossy rocks just don't mix well, and down I went in what I'm sure was a graceful tumble. I haven't heard the end of it, and I'm sure I never will. Being that I am the shortest, least graceful, and clumsiest in a group of tall, graceful, and steady men, not to mention the fact that I was now the cause of our going straight home rather than stopping for a drink, I would expect nothing less.

Albania, I would sleep on a wet, mossy rock in a river if you keep giving me days like this.

Despite being cold, wet, shoeless, smelly, and just so incredibly gross by the time I got home, it was hilarious and awesome. Honestly, of course that happened to me, and I'm glad it did because it is a great story to tell. More than that though, it reminded me to be thankful. Thankful for the stretch of that hike that I did have two shoes. Thankful for the shoes waiting for me back home. Thankful for the friends standing by me that kept me from falling further into the river. Thankful for the 6 foot tall friends, already adjusting their stride every day to allow me to keep up with them, who walked half pace the rest of the way home as I limped carefully down the rocky dirt road. Thankful for moments where I have an opportunity to laugh at myself.

I think it is important that we pay attention to these moments when we fall from grace. These are the moments that remind us of our inherent humanness, our points of weakness, our need for others. Beyond that though, it is so easy to get lost in the rat race and forget to take a step back and enjoy the little moments that make life eventful, the moments that will be forever seared into our memories, the moments that forever bond you and the people you share them with.

Fresh from the river, in all her glory. PSA: I know it looks like I wet my pants. I promise I didn't, and please instead direct your attention to my dedication to my remaining shoe, and just know that yes, I kept it.

Growing up, I remember spending hours running through the bamboo that my grandma kept in her backyard. I always loved it, and I remember spending time taking care of it with my grandma as a kid. I hadn't even realized that bamboo is quite literally everywhere you look here until this moment, this moment when my shoe was flicked into the river by a stray stick of bamboo. It's almost like Albania wanted me to know that she is with me, or perhaps, she wanted me to know that I'm where I'm supposed to be, to have peace in some way. However, I, in true Mohri fashion, was oblivious. So, in true grandma fashion, she took my shoe, which I'm sure she would have thought was hilarious. Walking home shoeless did, in fact, make me slow down and be thankful, smile fondly at the bamboo in my path, and feel at peace.

So, after that random aside that was really more for me to document that thought than it was to add to this story in any way, I'll leave you with one piece of advice, and despite the look of shock and confusion on my baba's face when I walked up to him looking like I had been mugged, I hold to this. Always take the opportunity to do something different. Perhaps you will have a grand adventure. Perhaps you will realize some glaringly obvious truths to which you have been oblivious. Perhaps you will find reasons to be thankful. Perhaps it will merely be a different view of the world on an otherwise uneventful journey. But, you may never see that view, let alone open yourself up to the possibility of adventure, if you choose to stay comfortable. Obviously some days are more graceful than others, but moments like these are moments that make life fun.