“Have you been to El Valle de Antón? I think you would love it.”

I can’t count the number of times I heard this as we traveled through Panamá.

Tom and I are pretty loosie-goosie about our planning, so after revisiting a few favorite towns we had space for new adventures in the beautiful county.

However, when I felt inspired to book a place in El Valle, I discovered there wasn’t much left!

We then learned that El Valle de Anton is an area filled with Panamanian summer homes, and a destination for escaping the city, especially during Carnaval and the last weeks of school vacation.

Here was an opportunity to watch the mind's judgy/fearful thoughts: “Why didn’t I look sooner- now there’s slim pickings for rentals! Should we even go? What if it is crazy busy?”

For our first winter of retirement/snowbirding in warmer climates, I had a strong pull to flow versus plan. We had three months of space to enjoy and had booked just our first place to stay upon landing in Panamá City, and then a few days on a beach as we headed down to the Azuero Peninsula, a part of Panamá we’d never explored. After that, the idea was to follow inspiration, and perhaps stay in a community for a longer period of time if the energy felt aligned.

Now, my mind had a few fears about this. We were traveling in the high season! What if we had to stay somewhere guácala, because there was nothing left? What if we missed out on something due to lack of research?

We don’t have running water, which means trips to the laundromat. I tend to avoid this, as there are many other things I enjoy more, and we have hundreds of pairs of undies and socks to last us at least a month or two. :)

The laundry mountain formed, and I knew it was time to go, but I was feeling -meh- about it. One of the annoying thoughts was that it was way later in the day than I normally go, therefore all the washers would probably be full and I would have to wait.

As I was driving to the laundromat it hit me- how fun would it be to EBTIECHI this?! Of course! Immediately my energy opened to play and fun.

Tom and I were walking on the Malecón in Mexico, enjoying the last ounces of Christmas vacation morning sun as we were headed back to the frozen north that night. I remember clearly how my energy shifted from bliss to fear when I received a text that our flight home had been cancelled. The text advised me to call an agent for rebooking, and upon doing so I learned that the next available flight out would be in three days.

Immediately my mind went into a panic, spinning with fearful thoughts. I was due back at school the morning after we had planned to be home! I didn’t have any more personal days, which meant I would have to apply for leave without pay. I would have to figure out lesson plans for all of my classes. And, more pressing, where we going to stay that night?

My husband, Tom, and I purchased three acres of raw, untouched land in rural Alaska about seventeen years ago. We built and moved into a tiny dry (no running water) cabin on the property, clearing enough trees and foliage for a driveway, cabin pad, and a view. The idea of landscaping was so over our heads that we just avoided it and let the land grow wild around us. In the fall and spring seasons we couldn’t even use our driveway because the ruts of mud would suck a car right in.

This summer we decided it was time to get a well. This required an abundance of dirt work to create a pad for the huge well rigs to do their business. Figuring this all out and making a plan with a contractor felt overwhelming, so we decided to EBTIECHI it.