It's kind of easy to lose yourself in different places. If you wake up in a different time zone, a different city, surrounded by different languages a few times each month, does it mean you're a different person? If you're not careful, the things you know can quietly slip away; sometimes it's memories, sometimes friends, sometimes yourself.
Memories are good. But you've really got to hold onto them tightly, at least the good ones. Sometimes, the beautiful ones like to hide deep and aren't easy to find. Sometimes, the ugly ones won't budge and inch.
With just a few months left here, it's time to start looking ahead. There are still some trips to make, some history to see, some mountains to climb. And I'll throw myself into those with everything I've got.
I look at old pictures and realize my friends and family outshine any sunrise in a far away land. Maybe the best part of traveling is coming home.
No comments:
Post a Comment