The Swiss government mailed my partner and me a letter.

It was in German, so it was completely incomprehensible to me.

Except for my middle name.

Printed twice.

Both times with one letter highlighted.

In red.

Why?

I had submitted my birth certificate, and my passport to a local Swiss Civil authority as a part of a visa process.

When my birth certificate first arrived by mail, my partner pointed out that the spelling of the middle name was off by one letter in comparison to the passport.

Connor with two o's - on my birth certificate.

Conner with only one o - on my passport, my driving license, my medical insurance... I think you get the idea.

Despite my partner's astute observation and the woman who handed us the form telling us that I needed to submit my passport and birth certificate, with a little warning from her that everything would progress quickly - as long as there were not any spelling issues with the name - I decided to go ahead and submit my documents as is.

And this is when I thought I would be spending my June in Switzerland.

That plan went up in flames.

Instead, on Monday I went stateside.

For a little surprise visit to the passport agency.

If you have never applied for a passport in the States before, there are two forms.

One for a name change. Where you must provide either:

a) a court order

b) a marriage certificate

Neither of which I had.

The other form is for a new passport.

Technically I already had a passport, and my name did not legally change.

It just happened to be wrong nearly everywhere.

Gratefully, each of the three passport agency employees I shared my story with, waving my two applications, was so understanding.

Was my situation a little silly?

I mean, who has their middle name spelled wrong everywhere?

And I am 30.

Come on.

I felt as though the dice landed in my favor when I came up to the counter to the final person who was processing my form.

They had studied Swedish and Norwegian, and knew a bit of German.

He asked me whether I had learned any Swiss German.

I offered him the one sentence I have locked down.

Ich han gern erdnussbutter.

Meaning - I like peanut butter.

Of course, I know other important words such as:

- Schwiizer Schoggi - Swiss Chocolate

- Flughafen - airport

- Fluss - river

Absolute mastery of the language.

I got some good smiles out of him as I shared how much Swiss German I have managed to learn over the past two years.

When he told me I could come pick up my passport this Friday, I was elated.

After one door closes, another opens.

Maybe you just need to fly across an ocean to find the other door.

Am I done cleaning up the mess?

No way.

I am especially excited to see what happens the next time I try to use my Global Entry ID.

I mean.

Am I now posing as Evan Conner Harris?

Identity theft?

Kind of weird.

The situation is ironic to me as my middle name carries such little significance, that my first inclination upon uncovering this situation was - can I just change my name?

Unfortunately, that would take quite a few months through the Maryland Court system.

Even something that matters very little to me can have an outsized impact on my life.

This idea of a name.

Who am I?

The government certainly cares, even if I could not care less about having only two or one o's.

In this way, we must adhere to and participate in the system that we are born into.

Even if we do not want to.

The alternative is to abandon the pursuit of our objective as soon as the first obstacle is encountered.

I would rather go through or around the wall.

Rather than turn around, yelling and angry about the fact that there is a wall there.

The wall does not love me.

The wall does not hate me.

It is just a wall.

My responsibility is to get over myself.

To move beyond my attachment to my old plans.

To get over my disappointment stemming from unmet expectations, despite never having any true proof that my expectations would come to fruition.

If we do not have expectations, then there is so much less disappointment or anger.

This surprise visit to the States led to a chance to have dinner with my family on Tuesday.

At dinner, my water glass spilled over my legs and shorts as the busboy placed the glass on the table.

I was completely unphased.

He handed me a few napkins and I dried myself off.

My body was a little sensitive to the cold water being dumped over it.

The jet lag did not help with temperature regulation.

But emotionally?

I was chillin.

Just as happy as I had been a moment before.

At the table next to us, a woman talks about how her husband would have freaked out in such an event.

Would he have?

No idea.

He was not there and it did not happen to him.

To be thrown into a reactionary state by external events that we can do nothing about is terrible for our inner peace.

Life is always giving us opportunities.

To practice calm.

Incorrectly spelled name.

Surprise bath at a restaurant.

What next?

No idea but I am sure I will not expect it.

In the meantime, I continue to offer myself meditation.

Because if I can work towards a state of calm while sitting on a cushion, it becomes easier to do so when a crisis emerges.