SHE’D FLOWN from the other side of the world, this unbelievable girl I met at Burning Man. It’s all been rather surreal. Now she’s joined me in Japan to start a new chapter together.

We’re all in.

I and a handful of other humans waited outside baggage claim at Tokyo’s Narita airport to pick up our friends, partners, family members, even strangers.

With about ten minutes until I’d see her, I got an idea.

I would write Coco’s name on a piece of paper and stand at the exit like one of those chauffeurs with the suit and white gloves.

I could continue standing off to the side, or I could make the memory.

To act cool, or to be all in. That is the question.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

Eh, I thought, weighing the pros and cons.

Cons: I needed a piece of paper. That would require me asking the people at the rental kiosks and possibly looking foolish.

Pros: Creating a story worth telling.​

Think about the unordinary acts you’ve taken which have shaken things up in ways both big and small.

It might be a dare by a friend to talk to a guy at the bar, or the chance you took to move across the world because your gut told you to.

We can never know for certain if these bold actions will work out in the end, and it really doesn’t matter.

Just by making a decision and taking a chance, we walk away with something worthwhile — a story worth telling.

When my brother and Dare to Dream co-host Gregory Benedikt visited me in Japan, we got it tattooed on our arms — Live a Story Worth Telling — he in English, me in Japanese, 語るに 値する人生 を 生きる.

When I feel the butterflies having a soirée in the pit of my being, I look down at my arm and I’m inspired to take the goddamn shot.

Why?

Because in the end, we regret what we didn’t do more than what we did. If things don’t work out — hey, at least we took a chance and have a story to tell. And if they work out, hell ya!

Go get a piece of paper and do the damn thing, I thought. Be silly. Make the memory.

The first woman was not very kind, just confused. I wouldn’t be deterred.

A woman at the second kiosk was more receptive.

Coco saw me with the sign as she came out of the opposite door I had my sights locked on.

She startled me and I said ah! Uh, is this you?? Pointing to the sign which read COCO BEAN.

It set the tone perfectly.

No, we won’t know exactly what we’re doing. We might feel a little foolish along the way. But this is gonna be an adventure, rest assured.

People smiled when they came through the exit doors and I was standing there, spinning my white sheet of paper next to the one other dude with a sign.

I like to think I made the scene a little brighter.​

What precedes a risk, a chance, simply something out of the ordinary?

Butterflies.

To live an extraordinary life, we may simply follow the tiny invisible creatures fluttering on the winds of our inner landscape.

When you get that feeling, act on it, and you’ll be one of those unordinary souls with a story to tell.

As a side note: If you want to be reminded just what the hell we’re doing on this spinning rock orbiting around a ball of fire, spend twenty minutes outside the arrivals exit of an airport.

Families hugging, friends laughing, children and parents reuniting after time apart.

Sure, they’ll be bickering after ten minutes in the car, but watching that uncontainable smile on a mother’s face as her son walks through the exit will make your heart grow three sizes.

We’re here for each other, man.​

It wasn’t just this goofy little experience that gave me butterflies.

I had ’em because Coco made it.

I’m writing this at a cafe on a Sunday in Tokyo. Coco’s sitting across from me, doin’ her thing. Life is changing. Life is happening.

Both of our lives have been shaken up to say the least, and while it’s been so incredibly awesome, it’s gonna take some time to find our flow.

But life is short.

We’re taking our shot.

We followed the butterflies that wouldn’t let go, and no matter what happens, we’ll never have to say, what if?

A story worth telling, indeed.