I have always held ambitious goals of myself to travel as voraciously and as often as the pocketbook and seemingly perpetually inadequate time-off work allows. Every once in a great while, I am pulled to escape. To unplug from the grid. To not have to make my bed and wash my towels and prepare dinners.
Vacations are precious to me because it allows me to meet that person that I want to be. Separated from the turmoil in my head and tossed into the unfamiliar and unknown, ironically, I regain my balance. When I am anonymous to myself - the robotic one I become in the grind - I am in my element. Grappling with a language I can only speak like a stuttering three year-old, I am humbled. Out here, I know nothing. I am no one.
Even to myself.
And it's delirious.
Even to myself.
And it's delirious.
I am staring at the rushing waves, the wind tousling my hair about. The water is a stunning aquamarine. It was disconcerting in the beginning, but every night since, I am lulled to sleep by the immense sound of thunderous waves. I bask in all this magic and express my gratitude that out here, there is none but the moment. And in this space, I connect with what might potentially the best version of myself yet.
Namaste and Love to you from Paradise.
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