June is always something. For me, it is a time of transition, and I look forward to at least one out-of-town trip. I was thinking about this, and the Grand Scheme of Things in general, when a thought occurred to me: it really isn’t the intricately-planned trips or events that hold the most meaning.
It’s the Random.
Everything that has surpassed my expectation has done so due to lack of expectation. My overwrought planning never did accomplish much. There are a few exceptions involving larger life events, but I mean this in a general sense–more of an everyday guide. All is best with a simple plan: gather, drink, listen to a band, line up a safe house, whatever. Do something not normally done. And it always worked, as long as there was a plan to get safely home. Or stay somewhere. Back to the grind at the beginning of the week. At least there was a day or two that departed from the Norm.
Adventure doesn’t have to be complicated. Yet the days pass, and not much comes of the best laid plans, but we rinse and repeat. A few years pass, and then a few more. Suddenly, its hand-wringing time. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. How ridiculous.
Think back to the best times you had–the real defiers, if you will–they weren’t planned out completely. Sometimes they don’t even cost much. Or anything.
This should happen more often.