Matters of Consequence

Back on my side of the pond and slowly trying to adjust to this thing the grown ups call “real life”. It’s like I got on a plane, crossed an ocean and a few countries and suddenly I’ve been propelled into an entirely different world consumed with what the wise Little Prince likes to call, “matters of consequence”.  One day I’m carefree, exploring historic lands, experiencing local cultures, meeting and connecting with strangers from around the globe and the next day it’s job searching and awkwardly fumbling as I figure out the answer to everyone’s question: “so what are your plans?”. I haven’t got a clue. But fear not, grown ups, I will figure it out.

In the meantime, I will bask in the glory of the memory that was my European adventure, continuing to do what I do best – write…even if my words only make it to this humble little blog of mine.

I’ve learned so much in the short two months that I was gone…about the world, about people, about myself. Traveling has a funny way of taking you completely out of your comfort zone and having you confront things about yourself that you never knew, or at least, for a time, tried to ignore. And now I’ve got a billion questions whirling around in my brain, expecting to be slowly picked up and resolved. But how am I supposed to confront all of the things I’ve learned about myself? Answer all the questions I’ve asked myself? Are there answers? Do I look for them? Do they find me? Do we meet each other halfway? Or do I create the answers as I go along my way?  There you go…another 7 questions to add to the already growing heap collecting in my brain. 


"Think of the long trip home
Should we have stayed at home and thought of here?
Where should we be today?
Is it right to be watching strangers in a play
in this strangest of theatres?
What childishness is it that while there's a breath of life
in our bodies, we are determined to rush
to see the sun the other way around?
The tiniest green hummingbird in the world?
To stare at some inexplicable old stonework,
inexplicable and impenetrable,
at any view,
instantly seen and always, always delightful?
Oh, must we dream our dreams
and have them, too?
And have we room
for one more folded sunset, still quite warm?"