"I saw that my life was a vast glowing empty page and I could do anything I wanted."
-- Jack Kerouac; The Dharma Bums
So.
Tomorrow I take off. Less than 24 hours. But before I go, I thought I'd let you all in on a bit of personal introspection. Some aspect of blogging -- blogging like this, that is -- is more personal and diary-like anyway. And this is one of those once-in-a-lifetime, could possibly change everything type of trips that you build up and put up on a pedestal. Honestly, I'd like to see if it is one of those life-changing trips. So what better way to do that than to record who I was before my trip, and compare it to who I'll be in half a month.
I leave for this trip... Well. I leave homeless, isolated physically from dear friends, and with a broken heart. I leave inches, centimeters, from completely falling apart, and not caring if I even bother to put myself together again. I leave physically, spiritually, emotionally drained. It's less painful to be empty.
That's what I leave as. Empty.
Tablua rasa, from the Latin. Blank slate. The philosophical ideal that we're all born a blank slate, an unscribed tablet, everyone equal. Nurture over nature.
I hope and pray to powers I doubt even exist anymore that something good comes from this. I'm terrified that it won't the big dream that I'm making this out to be. I'm terrified that it will, and that I'll come home and be stuck. I think I'd die if I got a taste of what could be but couldn't have.
So. I leave terrified, and empty, and broken, wanting things I don't have, don't know if I can have, or if I should even want them.
I leave with my Entire Life hooked over my shoulders. I could conceivably drop off the face of the planet as long as I have what I've got packed. Do you know how humbling it is to know that you have every belonging of importance packed away for easy transport?
Do you know how... freeing it is? Knowing you could just go on and on, 'down from the door where it begins'? Knowing that maybe, just maybe, you'll be brave enough to do that one day?
So this is me. Terrified, yes. Empty, yes. Broken, of course. That is default human condition.
But grateful. Grateful for the chance, the opportunity. Grateful for those who inspired me, who taught me how to be brave. Even if you don't know it.
I'm shutting everything off for the night. At the latest, you'll all hear from me on the 31st, when I get back home.
If I decide to get back on the plane.
The road goes ever on and on.
You could not step twice into the same river; for other waters are ever flowing on to you. -Plato
ReplyDeleteEnjoy your Walkabout. Despite your modes of travel and whether or not you realize it, that is exactly what this trip is for you.
The one thing that the past two years have taught me is how little material things you actually need and how freeing it is.
ReplyDeleteIt's been over two years that my life changed so dramatically and the things that I thought were important are gone forever or packed away into boxes, unopened for the same amount of time.
It's freeing. It's scary. I still think about what could have been and what should have been. How I wonder if my life has been a complete waste. But then I think of you and my other friends online. I think of the possibilities of my future. One that I would never have chosen for myself but the one that was presented to me.
Travel light, sweetie. Be free. Be adventurous. Be scare but get on the plane. Which I know you did.