Maybe you feel the same way, too – that as thrilling as big cities and popular spots can be, there’s a different sort of thrill to be found off the beaten track, where you can get lost a little easier and hear the sound of your own footsteps more clearly.
One final thing I was grateful for this Thanksgiving was the community of writers and artists I have become a part of, scattered though we are across the globe. The friends I have made are wondrously talented and are a constant source of inspiration to me.
This week five years ago, I stepped on a plane bound for London – little did I know how much that trip would change my life. It’s this sense of possibility that keeps me moving through the world, as well as through life.
It’s been almost two months now since I first got the email, asking if I’d like to chat about my sketches for a story on travel blogging. I was not only ridiculously excited to head to New York for the interview, but also immensely honored.
One thing I can’t ever seem to stop doing is learning. Travel is pretty cool that way – it keeps you on your toes, teaches you lessons big and small, and ensures you never get too comfortable in what you think you know.
It’s as we’re all circling up in the ICU waiting room that my answer comes: Even when I’m not a traveler, I am still a daughter, a sister, a niece, a cousin, and – this one being especially true today – a granddaughter.
And, really, couldn’t much the same be said of harmony in travel? Not only staying aware of what notes a place is striking, but conscious of the notes in your own journey as well – two melody lines, two journeys, one beautifully agreeing arrangement.
While I exult in the natural beauty of Pandant Beach, I exult furthermore in the gift Made has given me – the gift of solitude. The gift of space. The gift of an illusion – of being able to imagine I’m the first one here.
Surrender is about coming to a wall and deciding whether you’re going to merely bang your head against the bricks, or actually figure out a way to get over them – the act of “finding another door” which the resort’s manager, Marie-Hélène, referred to.
It’s still hard to say what exactly made our day so cool. Maybe it was that “everything is its own reward,” and I couldn’t help thinking about all the little moments that had led us to North Beach, and where all of our paths would lead us after.