On Something New

Lithuanian countryside

One week into a new chapter of my life, one that is being written as I go by a pen I do not hold in my hand. What is before me, I do not know, and what just one week ago was my everything, my day in, day out, drama, no longer lingers. 

I have not been writing because I have been too busy living. But not busy like before. Busy as though every moment is an opportunity to learn something new. Meeting new people and experiencing places for the first time when I had no preconceptions of what to expect. Trying new food, freshly picked from gardens grown over decades with knowledge passed down by generations. Forgetting where my phone is, because I no longer need it. 

I have spent a great deal of time laying in the grass, dozing in the afternoon sun, waking to a fly humming past my ear. I have dirt in my hair and haven't worn makeup in days. The sky, whether pure blue or cushioned with clouds, feels so near, and the days last well into the night, gifting us more time together. 

I have been revived by the sound of a foreign tongue I am just beginning to understand. The allergies of a new latitude were a shock to my body, which like my mind had become climatized to our previous surroundings. The unexpectedness of it all has been a great awakening: this is why I travel. It is a feeling that I will not attempt to describe, but by taking a step in an unknown direction, you too can understand that your life does not revolve around you. I do not want to be the sun, but instead a star, traveling across galaxies unimagined, by the power of my own light.

love,

greer