Travel
I've got the travel bug again. It comes and goes, but I've got it bad right now. Too bad my bank account is empty, otherwise I would be going crazy with all these last minute travel deals. But it's not just a desire to go away randomly for a few days. It's deeper than that. It's something inside of me that pushes me to go.
The funny thing is that I don't even know where I want to go. I feel pulled in so many directions. Should I go somewhere I've never been before? There are so many of those places. How could I ever choose?
Or should I revisit some place that I truly loved and want to experience again? Every time a great vacation ends, I promise myself that someday I will return. But when? How do I return and visit again when there are still so many places I haven't been?
And then there are the places I've lived. I love to move and live in different places because it is basically like extended traveling. I have lived in NYC, L.A., Tucson, Tempe, and Aruba as well as Austin and San Marcos. I made memories in those places. I had favorite restaurants and places to hike and swim and play. I want to go back to those places. I want to share them with my husband and children.
I want to see new places and expand, revisit old places with new perspective, relax, push my boundaries, all of it.
But I love it here too. I love my home on the ranch. I love my friends and family and small town life. I don't want to leave it permanently.
But oh boy, I also want to move. I daydream of getting a place in NYC or maybe a small home in Connecticut. To be close to culture and great big travel hubs and great theater and liberal people. Just to live some place yet unknown and be able to spend real time there living and experiencing a different life. There is this wonderful blog that I follow called Soul Travelers 3. It follows the travels of a family who sold it all and are permanently traveling the world with their child. An open-ended slow trip around the world. Wow. I would love that so much. That would fulfill such a huge part of what I am. And Michael's job might even allow us to do such a thing.
But I just couldn't do it. We have it so good here. I have my family here. My parents and my grandparents and my uncle and aunt and cousins all live a stones throw from me. My sister and her family are close by. We're not that far from Michael's parents either. Living here means constant support and fun and opportunities that I would never have elsewhere. The ranch is absolutely a dream place to live. I'm raising my children in a small town where they will be the fourth generation to live and grow up. That's pretty special and I am truly and seriously blessed. Lucky. I know.
Oh, but the wanderlust calls. It calls loudly. Get out, explore, see the world, learn, grow, become more, understand more, raise citizens of the world. The siren song is strong.
The funny thing is that I don't even know where I want to go. I feel pulled in so many directions. Should I go somewhere I've never been before? There are so many of those places. How could I ever choose?
Or should I revisit some place that I truly loved and want to experience again? Every time a great vacation ends, I promise myself that someday I will return. But when? How do I return and visit again when there are still so many places I haven't been?
And then there are the places I've lived. I love to move and live in different places because it is basically like extended traveling. I have lived in NYC, L.A., Tucson, Tempe, and Aruba as well as Austin and San Marcos. I made memories in those places. I had favorite restaurants and places to hike and swim and play. I want to go back to those places. I want to share them with my husband and children.
I want to see new places and expand, revisit old places with new perspective, relax, push my boundaries, all of it.
But I love it here too. I love my home on the ranch. I love my friends and family and small town life. I don't want to leave it permanently.
But oh boy, I also want to move. I daydream of getting a place in NYC or maybe a small home in Connecticut. To be close to culture and great big travel hubs and great theater and liberal people. Just to live some place yet unknown and be able to spend real time there living and experiencing a different life. There is this wonderful blog that I follow called Soul Travelers 3. It follows the travels of a family who sold it all and are permanently traveling the world with their child. An open-ended slow trip around the world. Wow. I would love that so much. That would fulfill such a huge part of what I am. And Michael's job might even allow us to do such a thing.
But I just couldn't do it. We have it so good here. I have my family here. My parents and my grandparents and my uncle and aunt and cousins all live a stones throw from me. My sister and her family are close by. We're not that far from Michael's parents either. Living here means constant support and fun and opportunities that I would never have elsewhere. The ranch is absolutely a dream place to live. I'm raising my children in a small town where they will be the fourth generation to live and grow up. That's pretty special and I am truly and seriously blessed. Lucky. I know.
Oh, but the wanderlust calls. It calls loudly. Get out, explore, see the world, learn, grow, become more, understand more, raise citizens of the world. The siren song is strong.
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