A Great and Resounding Perhaps

Leaving Italy sort of snuck up on me.  As usual, I don't feel remotely prepared for what's coming next but I'll be diving in anyways-- headfirst.  I didn't even tell very many people that I was leaving, perhaps not really believing it myself, which leaves me the awkward task of saying goodbye to everyone in the span of a few short days.

So why am I leaving anyway?  I guess for the same reason that I came: one day I asked my self what I wanted out of life and decided that I don't quite know what I'm looking for but I'm not going to find it here.

As always, I find that the trip is taking me rather than the other way around.  Taking me forward, I hope but at the very least, elsewhere.  And I hope that you'll still follow along with my adventures even when they don't involve passports or eight hour layovers or sleeping in airports (decidedly the least glamorous thing about long distance travel.). I intend to keep adventuring and writing and finding meaning in the small things as well as the big things (and the small things that are the big things.)

And people ask their questions like whether or not I'm "ready." To which I respond I was never "ready" but if I'm waiting to reach some magical moment of sudden preparedness, I'll be waiting an awfully long time.  If that question means to ask if there are moments when I ask myself whether or not I'm making a terrible mistake, I have to answer honestly and say that of course I have those moments, I've always had them and am not expecting that to change in the near future.

But when the doubts rear their excruciating and ambiguous head, I start throwing questions out to the universe.

Will it all work out in the end?

And the universe answers back, as it always does, with a great and resounding perhaps.

And on a good day, I read it as more of a probably.  And without further consideration, I start to pack my bags.  After all, it's the trips that take us, I'm just along for the ride.