3.1.06

One small step; that is all that separates me from here, to on my way to there.
Today is the day. If I had more time to prepare, I still wouldn’t be ready. I just have to go.
I’m taking a little more with me than a stick with a bandana tied to the end, but I couldn’t get my computer in a bandana. I always thought my Jeep was pretty big, until I started to pack it.

It’s hard not to think of oneself as the center of the universe, and really, that’s not a bad thing. It’s not as if my life, my trip, and my adventure is that important in the grand scheme of things, but it sure is to me.

Silly interpretive dance # 426: I’m on the jungle gym, the bars you crossed in the playground by grabbing on to the bar in front and swinging to the next bar, hanging a few inches above the ground. Only I’m not a few inches above the ground. These bars cross over a huge canyon. There is nothing below me for miles. I look down into the void, I look up into the sky, and I’m hanging here. I’m afraid. I let go of one hand. I look around again. I could scream, but no one would hear me. I smile. I let go. I fall, but I don’t keep falling. I am suddenly flying, flying over and out of the canyon. I am soaring. That is how I see my heroic journey going.

I’m going to write about my journey here, because I can. Read it if you want. Or go write your own story. It’s up to you.
Peace.