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The Pull Toward Wandering Aimlessly
It’s not just restlessness. It’s a need for exploration.
Someone once told me that nearly half of Americans still live in their home town. I have no idea how much validity there is to that statement but if sure as hell feels true. It’s always been my truth.
I have lived the majority of my life in Phoenix, Arizona. It’s served a purpose and it was a life I chose in a roundabout kind of way when I divorced my first husband, solidifying that I pretty much had to live wherever he was for 18 years.
I’m also a pretty damn responsible person.
I have spent the last two decades working as hard as I can and raising the best human I can. It’s nothing I begrudge.
I’m a saver by nature so I’ve never had a lot of expendable income, but it’s a trait that will serve me well later. I coupled this is chaining myself to a mortgage and a car and certain way of life to which I’m accustomed. What this has translated to for me is lack of travel.
I’ve always been envious of friends who have traveled all over the states and other continents. I’ve never been outside of the United States further than Mexico. I’ve never even been to Canada. Even my exploration of my own…
