A vagabond heart. I met him this past weekend during his stop in New Orleans. Met a cross a table at a social, he was visiting my friend, not apart of my world, but in it for a few nights. He had been all over the world, jumping ships in South America, scuba diving in Denmark, and makes money along the way by picking up odd jobs. A person you wanted to say "bullshit" about his journey, but he didn't seem to be a liar. I never found out how he started the journey, or why, but it made me think about why I work so hard to have an apartment, a job, benefits, when I'm not experiencing much of the world. I'm doing something everyday in hopes that someone makes it though, gives back to the world in the end, with no hope that it's really going to make a difference. Do I have the guts to let it all go and move on, experience something? This year I took baby steps and said "yes" to as much as possible, but it was still lonely in the end. What if I gave it all up, sold everything, and moved on to a simpler life. Maybe happiness isn't found in the traditional for me, maybe its in the journey. The anxiety of the new, challenge of the of the unfamiliar, and the constant honeymoon of the high. It's amazing how a chance encounter can make your heart happy...even if it just was for a day.
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