The older I get, the more I’m noticing this alarming trend: I’ve researched and planned for a trip, I’ve booked hotel rooms and reserved a rental car, I’ve made a list of “must-see” places and created a “count-down” calendar when, all of a sudden, I don’t want to go. Not that I don’t want the experience, but my ears start to hurt and my schedule seems full and my friends are already missing me and I feel overwhelmed with trying to stuff my whole wardrobe into a carry-on bag and it almost seems easier and more relaxing to just stay home.
Honestly, it is easier to stay home.
It’s always easier to take the path of least resistance, to stay on our side of the shore, and to look at pictures of other people’s adventures.
But that is what makes us old and boring with closets full of empty scrapbooks. So, I tell myself, “There will never be a perfect time to leave everything” and I leave half my suitcase contents on the floor so the zipper will close and I acknowledge that my house will never be perfectly clean for my return and I show up at the airport.
I think most of life is just showing up.
So, California, here I come! Miss me! (many pictures to follow)