That beautiful covered pathway above is one of the streets that Mr. W and I walked along in Positano during our Italian honeymoon in May. Because neither of us had ever been there, everything we saw was a surprise. A delight.
This is one of the things I love most about traveling.
You can wander around, not really knowing where you're going, and experience something novel at every turn. Much different from trekking through familiar territory.
Today I read a journal entry I wrote in July where I lamented the fact that I was feeling stagnant at work. I wrote about how I thought I should be appreciating the comfort of my cushy, stable job. And then I wrote about how I thought the problem was that discomfort made me feel more alive.
Thus, the love of traveling to unfamiliar places.
Now, I'm not talking major discomfort here. I don't need to be dropped in a jungle somewhere and contract a case of malaria to feel a sense of adventure. I just need some space for not knowing. A glimmer of possibility that my routine could get changed up or that I might stumble upon something totally unexpected and wonderful. Like a new office and time to work on my own writing projects...
When I wrote that entry in the summer, I was feeling really stuck. I didn't think it was "right" to walk away from a top company. I didn't want to abandon my coworkers or my boss when they've taken such good care of me these last 6.5 years. But I did want to feel alive.
Funny how the Universe hears us when we put these things out to it.
6 more days in the office. And then the adventure begins.