To Wonder and Wander

            I joke that having a house, a permanent address, is not for me.  I would rather own a RV.  I don’t need a lot of space; I’m just one person.  Moreover, I have recently adopted a minimalistic attitude toward objects.  I do not need four different types of soap, but I will tackle that topic on another day.

            Growing up, I was fortunate to have one childhood home.  There was no stress or commotion of moving, changing schools, or learning the streets of a new neighborhood.  Looking back though, it was pretty uneventful, almost stagnant. But that is what the experts say to do, right?  Give kids a stable environment.  So, day to day, my life was pretty normal:  walk the same six blocks to my grade school, come home and make meatloaf for dinner, and visit Grandma on Tuesdays.  And I was content with all of that because I knew when I grew up, became an adult, I would be free to do whatever I wanted and go wherever I pleased and I decided travel was what I was going to do.  Check, please.  Reality check that is.  It is true adulthood comes with freedom, but entrapment lurks around the corner shouting and shaking its finger at you, “You have responsibilities!  Who is going to pay the bills or let the dog out?” 

            I cannot help it, though; travelling is an innate element to my existence.  I love the road, love to travel.  I feel comfortable hopping from one hotel room to the next, living out of my suitcase.  At the end of a vacation, whether it was three days or twenty-three days, I never want to travel to my home base.   Perhaps I am just coming down from a vacation high, but going back to the humdrum of habit and schedule makes me restless. 

            After years of believing I had to stay in one place to make a living, to survive financially, I realized I did not have to conform.  I could make a living, a different lifestyle than the nine to five paper pusher I was, and retrieve my childhood desire of seeing the world and all the ups and downs it had to offer.   Granted, I have not travelled as far as I have wanted yet, but I feel I am making steady progress and hopefully time will be on my side because I do not care if it takes me forty years to stand in front of the pyramids or to savor a perfectly brewed cup of coffee from a diner in Kansas; I am still going to do it.