Wandering home

When I was a kid, I got in trouble for walking home from school (I just didn’t feel like waiting for the after-school bus) 

When I was a kid, I used to ride my bike all over town solo.

I did an internship in New York–not bad coming from a small town.

I used to do round-trip runs to Baltimore and Raleigh–at the spur of the moment.

I moved to New York alone. 

I moved to Brussels alone. 

I went to Rio alone. 

I drive to the beach for dinner after work.

I’ve been on vacation for a week, and when I was home in that small town, I noticed two things–many of the people I saw were old, and many were overweight. I can’t fight aging, but I can fight weight. I wrote this elsewhere…

i need to remember to stay awake in everything i do. walking through town, i see people who are big and moving slowly. they’ve yet time and age defeat them. i want to be aware of everything–everything– put into me, and what effect it will have on me.

The things I wrote above do’t necessarily speak to fireworks-out-the-ass adventure, but I hope/think they speak to a curiosity and wanderlust that has gotten a little suppressed in the hamster wheel of life, especially in the past couple of years. 

How to make the wheel spin in a different direction? A long weekend in Brussels is on the calendar for next month. But here’s the thing–I don’t need to travel to change my perspective. I don’t need to retreat to see who I am and where I am, and where and who I can be. 

The ability to see all these things is available to anyone at anytime. No plane ticket required. 

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