Why travel? Having just returned to the east coast from a whirlwind trip to Portland, OR, I think it’s a valid question. Cross country travel wears you down – body, mind and soul – in somewhat the same fashion that I imagine running a marathon does. Not that I would know.
Travel is exhausting. It is expensive. It is uncomfortable and risky. Yesterday, I travelled through six airports; if you want reviews on airports amenities, I am your girl.
And yet. By traveling to Portland I was able to reconnect with a dear friend, find some inspiration in the landscape, and live outside of my own ruts and routines for awhile. I saw myself strong: able to tackle a challenging hike, strike up conversations with unfamiliar people and make my way through airports well enough to get where I was going without breaking down in heart-wrenching sobs.
My heart and mind were expanded just a bit on this trip, and while home is familiar, as I rest, I see home and my life here through slightly different eyes. And isn’t that the challenge of living after Molly’s death? I need to build a new life out of the familiar; I need to evaluate previous routines and develop new ones. I need so see myself in new situations and recognize my own strength.
So, I travel to challenge myself into a unknown future and I am oh so glad that I went to Portland.
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