I've been reading a blog written by two friends who have quit their jobs and are taking a series of trips over the course of a year. They are currently in Patagonia. As I read their blog, I find it interesting, and the pictures beautiful, and yet not once have I heard a voice in my head saying "I wish I were there."
Now this is amazing to me. I have been known in the past to be what some might call, oh, a bit restless. From the time I went to college, I moved often (every two years on average), and traveled a good deal both for work and play. One move took me to the UK where I was able to travel all over the world for work. It was wonderful. But when I look back now I am struck by how little I was able to enjoy being where I was because I always wanted to be somewhere else. Or maybe it's that I wanted to be somewhere else because I just wasn't happy where I was.
It has occurred to me that this is one reason I was meant to have children at 40. I know that ten years ago, if I were home changing diapers with friends hiking across glaciers, I would be itching to be in their shoes, or hiking boots as the case may be. Maybe I just got the travel bug out of my system, but I think it's more that I am just happy to put it all on hold for the moment.
Hmm...wanting to be exactly where I am. That sounds strangely like some form of happiness.
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