ok, so i’ve been home for two weeks. i wasn’t even gone that long, so this is probably getting to be inexcusable.
i don’t have a line-up of polished travel photos waiting for their stage time, that would be nice. that would be the act of a good blogger. i don’t. i’ve edited one photo.
and it wasn’t this one.
i think, hmm, to offer a thought.
i think that traveling reminds me that the world, it’s big.
and i am very, very small.
my daily life is all about me – my job, my productivity, my coffee, my wallet. that alone is a motivating factor to head to the airport.
“barf, this is so much me all the time, i can’t even stand it.”
so what fascinates me about being elsewhere is that the world is suddenly in your face, and the world is about anything but me. what a relief.
i am a part of a population of billions, hardly anyone knows who i am. this beach existed way before i did, the swell exists and will take me out to sea without flinching. those nicaraguans could care less that i’m seeing something new, this is their daily life.
the world hums and grinds along, i am along for the ride. i am in no way at the helm of this ship.
i miss that. i miss that about being out there. i always do.