We are one month away from leaving for our big trip. When reviewing the to-do list from January, we’ve made great progress. We sold my car, listed the house, found tenants, traversed healthcare.gov, got seven million vaccinations and one million prescriptions, filed taxes, rented a large storage unit, etc. We have a 30-page Google doc laying out 370 days’ worth of locations and activities. And we have the first 6 weeks or so booked. Other than moving all of our belongings into storage, we are ready to go.

In retrospect, we didn’t need this much time between work and leaving. But I’m happy to have had it. In addition to planning, we’ve also had the space and time to have fun. Nick and I have been taking long morning walks along the water, often ending in a lunch date somewhere. We took Millie camping for the first time. I’ve (somewhat) stuck to a workout routine. Nick went on a trip with friends and has one planned with his dad. I visited friends and family on the East Coast. We drove to Colorado for Spring Break to see Nick’s brothers. My burnout and anxiety levels are at an all time low. I feel really, truly ready for the upcoming year.

I’ve been reflecting on how I want to show up and experience what will be a life-altering year, and have landed on three mantras. This is something I’ve done in previous trips (mostly as a joke) but have found that they really do help me during times of stress or conflict.

We are mining for grit. Any travel is challenging. Traveling for a year with a small child will be extra challenging. We will inevitably have days where things don’t work out and everything feels really, really hard. We’ll have moments of wanting to throw in the towel to return to our very stable and structured routine at home. I hope to remember in these moments that this is what we signed up for. We want a resilient kid who can roll with changes and sit with discomfort. We need the lows in order to recognize the highs. This is a training mission to set her up for being able to find joy in the unpredictability of life.

What’s the best than can happen? There are many people who see the best in every situation and every person. I am not one of them, though I wish I was. I have a tendency to catastrophize, especially in new and unfamiliar situations. We were once snorkeling in calm water and I spent the whole time worrying about a riptide taking us out to sea instead of focusing on the beautiful fish below us. I know my worrying has caused more suffering than it’s prevented. I hope to consciously recognize when I’m doing this, and shift my thinking from “what’s the worst that can happen?” to “what’s the best that can happen?” I hope this opens me up to more experiences. Move over Brené Brown!

Be really really present. Our pre-trip days were made up of series of things we’re trying not to be late for. Alarms go off at 7:00. Millie needs to be at school before 8:30. I sit down for work and examine the series of color-coded meeting blocks on my calendar. During each meeting I’m looking at the clock to make sure I’m not late for the next one. Once they’re finally through, we rush to pick up Millie before 5. Then we need to squeeze in dinner before the bath goes on at 6:45. Once she’s in bed at 8, we either finish up work or attempt to relax before realizing it’s getting late and we need to get to bed so we’re not too tired to do it all over again tomorrow. We are basically looking at clocks all day, and counting down those days until it’s the weekend.

One fantasy of the trip has been to break away from these time-based obligations. Remember during childhood summers when you’d forget what day of the week it was? I want that. Sure, we’ll need to make it to flights and hotel check-out times, but we’ll also have the freedom to linger in one place if it feels right to. I am going try to be present instead of thinking about what’s next. I will welcome boredom as a rare luxury. I will resist documenting anything in real time. I will just be.