Arno River, Firenze, Italia

Arno River, Firenze, Italia

Sunday, December 6, 2009

A Passion for Traveling...

"We travel not to escape life, but so life doesn't escape us..."

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do.” [So initiate the countdown. Leave behind the safety of home. Soar past your fears.] Explore. Dream. Discover.”---Mark Twain

"I have learned firsthand the beauty of traveling, how the world can open my eyes to new possibilities and seemingly impossible opportunities. I hope this piece encourages you to “wake your dreams”--- that these pictures may one day be more than mere locations, but instead can become for you the prompt for great conversations, remarkable stories, and unforgettable memories." -Brie Millington

This piece was inspired by my travels this summer: backpacking through China and Thailand, living on an island in Sitka, AK, and driving through Yellowstone National Park to Seattle, WA. As much as I hated living out of a suitcase, there was something freeing about having no responsibilities or time-constraints other than those I created myself. Trains would leave on the hour, and the Great Wall would always be there. It is addicting to travel, and sometimes I admit, I do so to escape life. But when I look at all there is to see and discover, I am charged with a fear that I will not have enough time to experience it all. I know there is a cost either way, but as Mark Twain so plainly stated the issue, I don't want to be at the end, only to realize I chose the wrong path and cannot go back.

So here is my promise: that nothing, the desire for the familiarity of home or even the fear of being pushed out of my comfort zone, will prevent me from exploring and traveling to new places.

Friday, December 4, 2009

History of the Title.

Sanded Stones

My wandering and broken heart,
flits from rock to rock.
When one crumbles,
I move again,
hoping to discover where I belong
before the scars of the past
prevent me from loving yet again.

Some laugh in my face--
condemn me to stay too long.
But, before my love becomes entwined in passion,
I move,
leaving a trail of sanded stones,
and my own calloused heart.

I wrote this poem in the midst of high school, yet it's amazing how I can still relate to my younger self. My life is indeed a trail of sanded stones. I make mistakes, I get hurt, I stumble more often than I care to admit, but essentially these hard lessons like rough waves have sanded and shaped me into a more independent, stronger, and refined individual.

I never intended to start a blog-- I often don't have much to say. But there is something satisfying about pushing the "Publish Post" button and making my thoughts and feelings, while maybe not understandable, at least heard.

So here is my story, from day to day, of my unending trail of sanded stones.