I’m coming to call the space between two locations breathing room. And the more I get of it, the more I realize how long I’ve lived without it.
For much of this year, I’ve been traveling, slow and solo, across the ocean, through parts of Europe, across America, and back again. I’ve taken ocean liners, trains, planes, buses, cars, and my own two feet. I’ve followed a few personal guidelines:
If I can get there slowly and with ground transport, I do. Airplanes and airports both stress me out. This year seeks calm
I try to give transit days one job: get me there. Period. No other demands on the day except to acclimate to the new location
Plan longer stays when possible, so that I’m not constantly on the move for overnights in different cities
When I was brand new again, fresh and raw out of high control religion and domestic abuse fifteen years ago, I made a similar discovery about urgency. I wrote in my journal,
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