Oh, the gorgeous and slimy company I keep out here in the Oregon Wilds! It’s like that Dr. Seuss book, only even weirder.
I’ve been procrastinating on writing here. Why? Because I’m coming to the end of Chapter 37. It’s been a year since I started this blog, since I took off of my trip around the world, since I found an online community that I love and respect and take so very much inspiration from.
This year, my thirty-seventh year, was perhaps the most amazing of my life. And I mean amazing as in inspiring awe in all things. I lived abroad, traveled my own country as well as a couple that weren’t mine, wrote A LOT of stories and essays and poems, met people that I will love forever and ever, fell the most ill I’ve ever been in my life (thanks to a small tick and Lyme Disease), got scared a lot, got courageous a few times, got lost a lot, found a few things, found myself, lost someone that mattered to me more than anyone in the world. I made a lot of mistakes and a few smart, good choices. I learned more about who I was, who I am, and who I’m becoming.
Chapter 37 wasn’t what I expected, not at all. Not one iota of what I expected. But I wouldn’t take it back or trade it. Not even those moments when Lyme had me so down I couldn’t eat, get out of bed or type. Not even the losses, because everything becomes something else, and if you nourish it and love it, there is a good chance it will become something better.
I don’t plan to stop traveling — in fact, I already have some travel plans lined up — so my goal is to continue to blog here very occasionally when I’m going to a new (or old or new to me) place. But it’s time to let go too, to move on to something new. That something new is Chapter 38.
I hope you’ll come back tomorrow and visit as I say goodbye to the heartbreaking, awe inspiring, mindbending, road unending year that it’s been, and announce my plans for this coming year. I’ve loved traveling with you all, I’ve loved every minute, every mile, every map and meter and moment. Thank you, a million times over for sharing this with me, for inspiring me onward, for helping me jump and run and live.
Far and fast, s.
The things you miss if you don’t slow down and look at them. I thought he was a really cool shaped leaf until he blinked at me.