I can’t Belize it.

I’ve never been more excited for a Monday! Tomorrow is December 6th, which means my partner and I, are off to Coco Plum Island Resort, my first trip of a “life-time”, located off the coast of Southern Belize.

It’s taken longer than expected to get here and my anticipation for this trip has been building ever since we were pitched this idea in July of 2020 to celebrate a friends' 40th birthday together. Even with the pandemic in full-swing, we were optimistic about traveling during February of 2021.

The holidays came and went, and in the middle of our cold harsh Iowa winter, all I could think about was the sandy beaches I would soon get to experience at Coco Plum--but the closer we approached our traveling date, the more anxious we became as things were unfortunately, still very uncertain.

Even though it was possible to proceed with the trip, we made the reluctant decision to reschedule. To us, it wasn’t worth spending our time on vacation being anxious and nervous about contracting the virus or bringing it back home with us.

Which brings me to today, the first day I’ve really allowed myself to get excited for this trip! Why now? Because there was, and still is, a million hoops to jump through to make this happen! From the usual adulting vacation tasks of preparing for time off of work and finding childcare (both human and dog-- thanks, Mom!), to adding pandemic specific tasks of finding testing centers and scheduling the correct testing option which must be done within a 48-hour window prior to departure.

Thanks to being vaccinated, and the official “negative” test result we received late last night, this trip is finally going to happen.

After two flights, a small plane adventure, a boat ride to the island, and a walk to the island check-in center, we’ll be in paradise.

I think it’s time I start to pack!

10,814 days and counting.

Have I told you it’s my last year in my twenties? I can’t believe it either.

High school me believed that everyone over 22 had it figured out. Dare I say it, but 30 from a high schooler’s perspective was….old.

Merging views of my parents and their friends, and my imagination, I constructed the idea that after high school, life simply falls together for you (I realize this entirely comes from a place of privilege that I was unaware I had at the time). You graduate college, land your dream job, fall in love, start a family and live in your picture-perfect home.

What was the plan if this didn’t happen to be true? I had time to figure it out! The only future thinking I did at 16 was determining my weekend plans.

During your sophomore year of college, if you’ve added the 40-credit course titled “mom” 10 days after you’ve turned 20, the next few years are spent less on figuring out your future and more on surviving tidal waves from the present.

Once you make it up for air, get to shore and realize you can survive, you’ll spend the next few years running full speed ahead, with the hopes of never returning for a swim.

When you run hard and fast, tomorrow becomes yesterday, and today becomes tomorrow—and whether it’s unintentional or intentional, you’ve fast-forwarded your time.

After spending 29 years, 7 months and 8 days on this planet, the only thing I’ve figured out for certain is the value of time.

When I blow out my candles this year and every year after, I know what I’ll be asking for.

No two stories are ever the same.

If I asked you to tell me about something you were intrigued with, what would you say?

Mine? Well, it's something I’ve been completely engrossed with for the past 6 months.

It was shared with me by someone who knows me very well.

When I wake up the morning, I’m already looking forward to it.

And by the time I've finished my morning coffee, the anticipation inside of me is almost bursting.

It’s the first thing I think of when my eyes are begging for a break from the screens.

Or when I’m hungry for a 10-minute walk in the fresh air.

Above all, it’s one of the only things that can break through an overgrown wall of anxious thoughts at the end of the day.

Mine? Takes me someplace I’ve never been before.

Mine? Helps me see things from words I'm only hearing.

It’s so much more than me listening to someone telling a story. It’s about gaining perspective on the entire human experience.

No two stories are ever the same. Nor are the endings.

Every story listened to advances my connection to someone I've never met before.

On a good day, I can press play on my morning commute and arrive to work with a smile on my face. And in that same day, I can press pause just before going to bed with tears in my eyes.

The Moth is a podcast that has undoubtedly had a positive impact on my life. My hope is that it remains a part of my life for many days ahead.