Shit Happens


It was nearly a year ago when I grew some balls and hopped on a plane to India by myself. I had four days worth of clothes, three weeks of adventures ahead of me and very few expectations...except that I would write some songs, eat some amazing food, and shit myself, despite all of my organic attempts to keep my tummy in line. And I absolutely did. It was the most amazing and humbling experience. That definitely wasn't the first time I shat my pants, but it was for sure my favorite.


I essentially planned for this shit. I had baby wipes on deck at all times and I was devouring probiotics and activated charcoal like it was my job. I even dropped some Grapefruit Seed Extract in my water throughout the day for extra protection, and that mess makes water taste like Campari. But when I stepped into that one cafe (of at least 95 degrees Fahrenheit throughout and most likely lacking a refrigerator) with my empty tummy I simply couldn't pass up the garlic fish...AND they served fresh pineapple juice? I wanted all the I had all the things...and all the diarrhea. Do I regret it? Not even a little. I still haven't been able to get my fish to taste as good as that day.


Luckily for me, I was in my pajamas and in the comfort of my hostel when I so effortlessly over-thought that fart, but I viewed it as a reminder from the universe to stay humble while living my best life. You can have your cake and eat it too, but no one is exempt from a shitty day. The amazing experiences you have often include a few hiccups along the way, and that is part of the beauty.  Life is about balance--and you know this from your favorite late nights with alcohol: the next day is always struggleville.


In all, I had an amazing trip and learned so much, but my favorite lesson? If you went to India and didn't shit yourself, you weren't living your best life. Life is about taking risks, so eat what you want, love who you want, and do you. Shit happens. We are human. Wipe, and continue living...