This is a very curious thing: a blog. It's personal, but it's not. It's shared, but only with people who want to read in.
For most people reading this blog, I think, most everyone knows that in my life, right now, life's in a transition of sorts. I'm living in a place that's very "foreign" to me, even though I'm in a country where I've been coming all my adult life. I'm watching, observing, but I'm also a participant. It's not a "place" where I've ever been before.
I spend a lot of time these days trying to figure out life. Where I am, from one perspective, might appear somewhat simple, certainly bucolic, and for sake of better words, peaceful and quiet. But here for me as a foreigner, it's never peaceful and quiet, and definitely not simple.
A few weeks back I had a revelation in my quest in figuring out life.
"What am I doing?" I asked myself (the perennial question).
"I'm travelling," I suddenly answered back. "You know, travelling."
I (the one asking the question, and the one answering) devised a theory about "travel" a few years back. "Good travel" is travel that one learns from, travel that impacts one's life (almost in that way of a significant drug experience). And good travel is generally when one makes one's self vulnerable, where one engages to such an extent to where things can really go wrong.
"I'm travelling," I said to myself. And that revelation helped. And the people immediately around me are also travelling.
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