I live for the days I disappear into the blinking cursor and spiky crisp word shapes, only to eventually emerge with ears ringing, tummy rumbling, and satisfaction of a thought well-expanded.
This is one of the ways I learned that "But this is just who I am!" doesn't fly as an excuse for unprofessional or inappropriate behavior. We learn to present certain aspects of ourselves in appropriate situations.
I turn 25 today, which feels like a milestone. In the last quarter century, I’ve raised goats, read through a library and a half, graduated college (and gone back for round two), solo traveled on three continents, dirtbagged, lived with a family that’s not my own, volunteered full-time, learned a second language, and threw in my lot working for a Fortune 500 company.
I have to trek all the way around the building to check my mail, but I live at the place I put down as my permanent address.
Facebook has reminded me that two years ago, I stayed up until 3am at a riad hostel in Morocco, and then woke up the next afternoon to surf with strangers from Europe and Australia. Today, I woke up in the bed I own at 6am because I'm working on building a habit of discipline, and am currently staving off laziness by working my way through a to-do list.
I like being around you because I admire who you are and what you have built. You help keep me anchored and help me question and reevaluate what I think I believe so I do not become a sheep; even a sheep with the best intentions can be led down a dark or, perhaps worse, meaningless path.
I don’t know if I consciously expected to find pilgrims with backpacks on trains or in late-night discussions in the hostels, but whatever I expected, I was disappointed. I’ve written about my loneliness while traveling, and it took regaining some spiritual community to realize that the loneliness was in some ways spiritual isolation.