After a post-LA six-month stint in the Empire State, it’s time again to gather the tape guns, construct the itinerary, and head for unfamiliar waters. It’s Groundhog Day, with an unpredictable finish.
Three cities in thirty weeks. Coast to coast and climate to climate. Another fresh start, with even fewer friends.
Multilayered introspection is crucial for any deep-dive system reset, and we are all lone conductors of our own orchestras. The only constant in life is change, but I’m ready for a little consistency following the chaos.
Gleaning lessons from the past year’s pattern upheaval, the most eye-opening realization has been how capable humans are of acclimation. I consider myself fairly entrenched in the spongy, bouncy comfort foam of routine and ritual. But I have been thrown more than my fair share of curveballs in this game, and I’ve generally been able to hang in the batter’s box longer than the rest of the rookies.
Most of us are malleable and adaptable creatures, even those who think a rigid adherence to track-walking is the only thing that keeps their marbles from getting misplaced. When presented with a series of seemingly insurmountable challenges, flexibility is usually found somewhere in the fabric. We just need the courage and desire to search.
So the quest continues…
Chasing the sun, I’m headed for the land of tennis fanatics and retirement enthusiasts. It was an interesting last lap in a hometown that feels very little like home. But it was necessary to put a bow on the gift of growing up and to capture those mental snapshots for a future nostalgic slideshow.
Time to turn another page in a book that remains to be written.