I’m sitting in the back middle seat of the Underexposed-mobile right now, leaving Duncan and heading towards a ferry terminal. In the distance all around me is beautiful scenery, but sitting between Josh, Chris, Sheldon, and a sleeping Mogs, my more immediate surroundings include a smattering of techy banter. Josh is cranking the “indie-folky tunes,” and Sheldon is thinking about buying some sort of helicopter toy to take creative new shots. I stop typing only to laugh at the chirping between Josh and Chris… Josh and Sheldon… Josh and a non-responsive sleeping Mogley… and I look between the two front seats at the open road before me. This is Underexposed, episode 110.
We spent the past couple days hiking and biking, and now we head to another remote location for more of the same, along with some whale-watching, camping, and adventures yet unknown. And despite the incredible amount of uncertainty to which I slowly grow accustomed, I find I’m starting to take comfort in the discomfort of living life moment to moment. I like planning. I like lists, schedules, and a degree of predictability. And typing this, I must necessarily stop to ask myself how I became this way. I used to love spontaneity and last-minute adventures, and I realize now that I started losing this part of myself. Until this crazy adventure called “Underexposed” came along and turned my predictable, list-driven world on its head, that is.
The past 10 months and 10 episodes have been one of the most incredible life lessons I could have ever asked for. And believe it or not at one point I subconsciously did, in fact, ask for this unbelievably fun, albeit frustrating (at times), lesson. I was reading my journal recently when I came across an old entry from last September that said, “Who do I become when I’m not in charge?” Turns out I become somewhat difficult to work with when I lack predictability and schedules — imagine my shock when I realized that. But rather than cringe from the blow to my ego, I’ve chosen to embrace the realization and work on myself. I’m learning, slowly and often painfully, that I can’t control everything — or anything, really, except for how I respond to situations.
So as I sit here surrounded by hilarious co-workers and drive into unknown adventure, what else can I reasonably do but close my computer, join in the banter, and smile wildly as I join the crew in embracing the excitement of uncertainty.