I've been in the office for over a month.
The only travel I've managed to do was a quick trip to W. Palm Beach for a nonprofit event, and I was so desperate to get on that plane I looked like a heroin addict who finally managed to score a hit.
So, since I've been landlocked, I've been searching for purpose. It's been difficult! Working, self-medicating, and home renovation have begun to lose their appeal. I've realized that I have truly defined myself by my movement across state/country borders.
What would I do if I were permanently grounded? I truly believe that this is not an option if I hope to be happy; however, I have come to realize that the travel doesn't have to be quite as much to maintain a stable mind. Being off the road has forced me to realize that I love not only the people I meet and the places I see, but I truly love the process of traveling. I love flying in a plane. I love the feeling of hotel sheets and a puffy duvet on a cold night. If you do much traveling for your job, you have probably decided by now that I must live in a hovel to enjoy being on the road for these reasons. Who could possibly prefer the loneliness of the business trip to the comfort of one's own home?
It is these surroundings that truly keep me going, because, like a child, I am still excited by them. Every time I feel the plane take off, I am overwhelmed with the amazement that Man could engineer such a wonder. Flying through God's heavens reminds me of the beauty, splendor, and danger of this life. I wax poetic as I look about the amalgamation of postcards here at the office that represent my journeys. This is a way of life.
Being this wistful is wearing me out. Thank goodness I get back out there next week.
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