Browsing through our shared photo album you can get all these glimpses of the trip through everyone else's eyes. I admit though I have maybe like a genetic predisposition to Augie's photos, taken with an old camera without any AI algorithms in it to goose the color saturations and sharpness and all that. And Augie also seems to have a very literal eye--when he takes a picture of a dog, it's just a picture of a dog. Or a tree and some rocks. Or just some mostly invisible mist. Maybe a cloud, if you're lucky. The zen monk in me likes that quality of is-ness to whatever it is in the photo.

And so the Augie picture above is just a picture of Gigi, visiting a place. And not to try to force things too deep, but what I see in the photo is a person in a place who's maybe just a bit out of place. And the place itself is wildly layered with so many different types and ages of things it's almost incoherent, almost tearing itself apart not knowing what it even is. But all of that comes together in this amazing tapestry-like thing that just works for me.

This latest trip helped me see that I'm the kind of person that likes to find a space of quiet in the middle of a riot of stuff. I've always been this way I think, but this trip helped me put my finger on it, and now it's become a part of who I think I am. I'm never happier than when I'm in the middle of 10 super weird things happening around me at the same time. I feel the most calm and centered when other people are freaking out. The only thing I didn't like about the volcano night, for example, was I thought that if Augie had to be carried off the mountain, his mom was going to murder me and people would say I was a deadbeat dad. The dad version of mommy guilt, plus the fear of being murdered by the mom. But other than that, the weirder it got, the more I loved it all and wanted to go back and do it again immediately. Well, not quite immediately, but, you know, after 20 minutes in a shower and a real bathroom, I was rarin' to go.

Anyway, that's what I learned about Me. But what I learned about Us is in the title to this response, which could be boiled down to a simple algorithm: Place + People = Magic.

I think it's just that simple, except for writing it down I immediately notice I'm missing the one key, sometimes hidden ingredient: Attention. So maybe we should write like this: Attention(Place + People) = Magic. Attention transforms any place into a riotous, multi-layered, endlessly fascinating tapestry of electric connection and meaning such as is evident in everything that surrounds Gigi in the photo above. And likewise, deep attention transforms any "ordinary" person into someone you can see is actually a visionary with a totally unique view of the world and its possibilities, and also a receptacle of the wisdom and stories of all their infinite generations of elders which you can hear all about if only you ask, and listen. When you bring that kind of attention to people and places, magic unfolds, every single time. It's foolproof.

For the sake of consistency and branding, and in the Augie-inspired spirit of is-ness, maybe I should just say Wonder instead of Attention. Okay. It's all about Wonder, here.

Something else that is completely evident in the trip album is that bringing Wonder to a situation is not only fun, it's extremely practical. Look at all the connections we formed and strengthened with so many new and old friends. Look at how many possibilities for new work we identified and got fired up about. This is exactly how all new ideas, connections, and coordinated social actions come into the world. And it's also so fun.

Anyway, now there's so much to do to keep the energy building on all these new ideas, actions, and relationships. Time to get to work. But also, how about let's pick a new place and do it again? Whatever you loved about this place and these people, let's find it all again in a new place with new friends. Whatever kicked your butt, made you scared and uncomfortable, why not face that beast again? I swear, we could climb that volcano in such style, with such grace and dignity. Who's in?

Nice clickbait title, eh

But for real, I've said that exact phrase to myself at some point during pretty much every one of the most meaningful experiences of my life. And not just said it to myself, but really felt it in my bones in an almost sickening way like... I'm in too deep, I'm not good enough to do this, why was I even thinking this was a good idea in the first place??

As we're headed out on this trip together, I just wanted to say that that "huge mistake" feeling we get sometimes in the middle of these experiences is usually a "feature" of a life well-lived, not a "bug." So the feeling's normal, but the way you respond to that feeling makes all the difference.

The truth is in most of these situations that there's no way OUT but THROUGH--when you're on day 3 of an 8 day trip, what choice do you have but to plow on ahead to day 8? If you can get yourself to really accept--maybe even embrace--that fact, the "terrible mistake" feeling becomes sort of a gateway to pass through, and when you let yourself go through that gateway there are some pretty amazing things to discover. On the other side of the scary-seeming gate you might see that: Other people care about you and are more willing to help you than you ever thought. You're more energetic and resourceful than you thought. And all kinds of things that seem bad or inconvenient in the moment turn out the be the most energizing experience of your life.

Basically if you put yourself in weird situations and make it through the gateway of that mistake feeling, you'll end up a bigger person, able to feel more, and connect more with more people, in stranger situations, than ever before.

I mean, some things really just are mistakes. And some things we start out to do with good intentions turn into fiascos, for sure. But I was thinking of a few rules of thumb that have helped me boldly, recklessly strike out into the unknown with the best odds of coming out better on the other side. :)

Here's the advice (for myself) I've come up with:

• Before you embark into the great unknown, take some time to imagine the things you're excited about and want to experience--actually visualize it, dream it, let your imagination run wild with how amazing it could be. Visualizing what you want brightens your outlook and preps your brain to seek the beautiful experiences that may emerge, even and especially the surprising or unsettling ones.

• Prepare the very best you can. While you're visualizing all that, use what you're seeing to make detailed preparations. The food, clothes, schedule, people, etc., etc. Make smart, reasonable plans, and then trust yourself, relax, and let yourself be carried along the way.

• Hang on for the ride. When the inevitable "huge mistake" feeling arises (or some minor version of it--not everyone is as big of a drama queen as me), congratulate yourself! You put yourself out there, and now you're getting your reward: a truly memorable experience. What else is there worth living for? After you congratulate yourself, you're really living now. But then also maybe share what you're thinking and feeling with someone. Get some help, have a laugh, adjust your plans if you can/want, and keep moving.

This is such old man/dad advice, but literally everything worth doing has its truly, deeply crazy moments. Learn to see them as the gateway and you'll be amazed how smart and resourceful you are, and how many smart resourceful people you have around you.

I took that picture up top on my last trip to Guatemala. It was an incredibly beautiful moment in the middle of a trip where I didn't know where I was, what I was supposed to be doing, surrounded by an odd mix of people, and a little sick to my stomach. I def had to go through the gateway way of "this is a huge mistake." But then when I did, I found myself immersed in all that green and gold and pink you see in that photo, and I felt amazing. And there were 50 other amazing moments like that over the course of my week of venturing a little *too far out there.

So we'll see you all out there--let the huge mistake begin!