Look, I’m no fool.

I understand that there are real threats to society here. I’m taking it seriously. Sending light and love to Italy. Extreme social distancing (made, admittedly, easier, given that I have some bug—hopefully not the plague—that is so fatiguing, the very notion of leaving my house is laughable). Praying people I love stay far, far away from contagion. Seeing clients remotely to encourage grounding and positive thinking.

It’s a scary scary time. I wake up every day and wonder, “How can this be? How can all the things I took for granted suddenly vanish? As if I’d made them up as part of an elaborate child’s game?”

And yet.

I can’t help but wonder, what does this mean for our plan to launch a year-long adventure starting June 10th? And I have to forgive myself for focusing on my own small life when so many are struggling because there are practicalities to consider. Siena deferred her college acceptance to join us. We didn’t reenroll Gabe in 8th grade. I’ve rented my office. We’re currently looking for someone to rent our house. If we’re stuck indoors as some alarmists are predicting for EIGHTEEN MONTHS, what happens to all of that?

I know many of you wonder the same because you’re kind of enough to send me messages of love and support always with, “What does this mean for your trip?”

And I need a way to answer easily, to not have to explain over and over because more of my soul erodes each time I have to say—

Who the hell knows.

Two weeks ago I sent an email to our first (ostensible) stop in Plockton, Scotland. I told Denis and Kate that as long as the US lets us out and the UK lets us in, we’re coming. What I didn’t tell them is what we’d discussed as a family, which is we’ll have to be extremely flexible. If we wind up having to stay in Scotland for six months, so be it. We were all okay with that. Our itinerary will no doubt shuffle in response to the changing pandemic landscape, and we’ll ride it out. We are all up for that challenge.

Denis and Kate wrote back that they were eager to welcome us to the Highlands and “better hand washing than hand wringing.”

And then the borders closed.

And now I have no idea about anything anymore. Will the borders reopen? Can they keep them closed for months or years? Will it be irresponsible to travel, even if we quarantine the first two weeks in any location? Will we want to be far from home when calamity strikes?

I literally have no freaking clue.

All I can tell you is—we are desperate to get out. We’ve already done the work of saying goodbye. We’ve carved out a year of our life for an adventure together. Switching gears to a life of counting toilet paper squares seems like…something more dramatic than a let-down. I’m too tired to come up with the right word.

We’ll pretty much go anywhere. Last week, I entertained myself by researching which locations we could still fly into, and then I realized that that changes too quickly to do us much good. Plus, our requirements are different now. For instance, I won’t want to go anywhere where the health care system is overtaxed. That just seems unfair, to bring more bodies to possibly care for.

And we’ll go anytime. I’m okay putting off our plans for months, but if we have to abandon it all together… well, I can’t imagine. But I couldn’t imagine this current lifestyle of crossing the street so as to avoid passing someone on the sidewalk.

So I’m like you. I’m reading the news. Praying people take this seriously. Cheering our scientific community that is rising to the challenge like superheroes. Figuring out how long our food will last before we need to place an order. Feeling grateful that’s a even a possibility. Trying to support those whose finances have crumbled.

Same as you.

Only in my heart, rarely out loud, I feel the countdown to June 10th. A countdown I fear will end with nothing but the sound of echoing down a long and dimly lit corridor.