Car Window Poetry

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Uganda Day 1: Not in Control

As I type this, I’m flying over the Atlantic Ocean 15 minutes from landing in Amsterdam. I’m on my way to Uganda — something I never expected to say a little over two months ago. But that’s the beauty of pursuing love. Doors open when you least expect them to.

One second, you’re graduating from college and starting your first post-grad job; the next, you’re starting a poetry project in your living room. One second, you’re just hoping that project will grow locally; next thing you know, you’re sharing poems on NBC Nightly News.

This year has taught me more than anything that you can’t plan everything. And where you lack plans, you gain surprises. What’s an adventure without surprises?

I like being reminded I’m not in control. Maybe that’s why I like flying. I’m just along for the ride like everybody else. I have to trust. I know I’m not piloting this plane, and honestly that’s the key. If I was in control, Lord knows I wouldn’t make it to my destination.

I imagine the next week and a half in Uganda are going to be very similar to the experience I have while flying. I’m preparing to enter a land I’ve never been to.

I don’t know the people. I don’t know the language. I just know I’m not in control. And guess what. That’s okay. I think that’s where the magic happens.

With love,