Ten thousand miles over twenty-nine states for three-and-a-half months. I soaked in hot springs by Mount Shasta, marched the Gettysburg battlefields at sunrise, set up the Platonic Solids for a prom in Yellow Springs, traversed New York City’s Highline Park at sunset, and camped with dinosaurs in Utah.
It was a rich, exhausting, adventurous journey outwards. Every day was different on the road. I saw much and did little but drive, eat, and sleep.
I’m home. Let the real journey begin.
I journey now inwards to plumb who I am, what I want, and what can I do for others.
I want to discover how little I need to live well. I whittle off excess. I slow down to live as if this year might be my last.
I start by fixing, fixing my apartment, fixing my body, fixing myself. Can I give up troublesome traits? I throw out alcohol, I get rid of poking others, and I curtail coffee. I want to smooth out my manic highs and lows.