the only times i’ve been happy in reent memory has been in the act of travel. driving to houston and back on this recent trip. exploring san antonio for a night a few weeks ago. walking for miles upon miles in austin seeing places which I had missed for the last twenty years. the firm idea that the land in front of you is the goal and the area behind you is old news and that you must continue on, step by step, or mile by mile towards you goal is so damned simple and soul fullfilling. even if the stopping point is unknown there is always a destination, forward. put another foot down towards the new. free yourself from all the labors of decision making and such think about simple ideas. explore them. fly around the idea of converting to some eastern philosophy. surf down the waves of fitzgerald and see where it goes. get in a heated argument with your mother about how to cook a roast. the physical action of playing is great and necessary but so to is the intellectual act.
travel is also in some ways a childish pathetic retreat fro real life. from work, from responsibilities, from societal presssures. it says to the world “look i can’t handle it right now and i’m going to put myself in a little timeout and think about what i’ve done because i’m scared of whats happened already and i dont have any clue what will happen next.
