Welcome to Mo!
I collapsed on my hotel bed; happy and absolutely spent. I was in Albania, speaking at a women’s retreat. After a long day, the adrenaline was finally wearing off. I breathed in deeply, letting my body sink into the mattress’ embrace…
Nine or ten hours later, when I opened my eyes, I noticed the wallpaper was embossed with city names: London, Istanbul, New York, Paris, Milano… My eyes lingered on the wallpaper seams, where new, whimsical names formed: “Parinbul,” “Londolano,” “Newbul.” And my favourite for its understated simplicity, “Mo.”
“What kind of people would live in Mo? Maybe they all have blue hair and enjoy unhurried conversations in artsy coffee shops…” I smiled at the sudden realisation that creativity was winking at me from a mistake. Adventure was beckoning from the completely unplanned, and the utterly imperfect.
Plans are necessary, of course. But some times my planning is more about giving my anxiety something to control, than my life space to grow. So, I need the Mo moments. They remind me that I will end up where I am meant to be. They whisper it is not all up to me…
Darling, breath in deeply. There is a current flowing much stronger than your mistakes. And new adventures calling from wallpapering defects. There are galaxies crammed with options, full alphabets of plans. There are blunders that open gateways, and failures that make you fly.
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