“Live Your Truth.”
Here I am, again. Feeling frenetic and ready to see what else is out there, more nervous than I can verbalize to anyone. My life is good. It’s changed drastically since 2019, just 2 years ago. I’ve graduated college, started a business, entered writing competitions, left the country, survived the pandemic, experienced connection in different forms, and moved to the central coast. After experimenting with a few different career paths, I’ve found a company and community where I feel supported and seen and gain new skills everyday (I can kill and clean a live crab, which is a cool flex I didn’t have before). I wake up in the redwoods, and work on the water. My life is good.
The travel itch, though, never quite goes away. I’m lucky that I have the capacity to channel it instead of let it rule me. My Dad used to HAVE to take off after a year or two, afraid that the happiness wouldn’t last. I sometimes very much understand his take on this, but am doing all I can to choose the right side of the coin to this. Happiness is a personality trait, although getting stuck in monotony can certainly challenge the joy. Instead, I will honor it, cutting out time and budget to get back out there, fearlessly, while balancing this life that is so good. That I love. Because getting back out there simply means I get to bring something new to the table to those around me. I’m not chasing happiness, I am growing it.
Last stent on the road, I bought Dad a brick at the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial, so his memory could live beyond me, so his sacrifices could be honored. Little did any of us know at the time that there could be no ceremony in 2020. So it was postponed to this year, and I’m ok with that. Last year, I was not in the content spot that I am in now. The ceremony would have been an escape for me, versus now, it’s just time to honor my Dad. It’s just his rememberance for the weekend, and then after that, the legacy and break in the chain that I am vehementely attempting to foster. I am excited for the adventure, but not questing to escape, and that is something I am proud to hold as we gather for his closure. Something I will be happy to bring forth for him.
Things are a little different this time around. I got a new (used) car this week that will be easier on my 30-year-old body. I know what I actually need to bring. Any while the nerves are still real, I have a confidence I did not have before. The more difficult part to maneuver this time is finding a way to have my cats looked after. Last time, I had lived with family and had local friends. This time, I am off in the woods, with friends further apart and the threat of COVID still looming heavy enough to keep people apprehensive about coming over. I am thankful for this worry, though, as it means I have love around me and reasons to come home. I am about a month and half away from taking off. Stay tuned, as this is bound to be a good ride.