Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
As more people become aware of this big dream that I'm planning to begin, the question always leads to, "so how long are you going for?" In my thoughts, I enjoy pausing in preparation of the response when I tell people that I have no time limitation for this amazing journey. The most incredible, and still often fearful part of all of this, is where it may take me in life since I'm allowing the wind to carry me to any of the four corners of the earth, and I sense as though my life from here on out has not been written. I know that if I were to stay in Colorado I could imagine, with little anticipation of what my life may continue to be, following a path that is and has been predetermined for quite some time. I know that some of the older coworkers I've had the privilege of both working with and developing friendships with has greatly encouraged me to live out possibly what they cannot. I tell them that I feel as though I'm not just doing this for myself, but for many of those that are unable to do so. Whether that be due to financial or physical restrictions or prior responsibilities, I hope that this continues to inspire people, not just to travel, but to remember their dreams and to begin the process–however long that road may seem–in fulfilling them to the fullest.
I suppose that when you're pursuing a dream, passion follows closely behind. I've had several close friends tell me that it's been quite a while since they've seen this passion in my life, as I've been rather apathetic and melancholy in my demeanor, which saddens me because this is not my true nature. But now that I've committed to living out my dream I feel alive, and at peace.
Not only do I want to bask in the monumental sites around the globe–taking in the beauty of all that this world has to offer–I want to embrace the people and cultures that makes us so unique and different all while unifying us with the same human spirit. I want to surf off the coast of all of the continents, venture into uncharted and unmapped lands far from tourist traps, watch the sunrise over the Serengeti, sleep among an endless sky of stars–free from city lights, salsa dance into the early morning hours, awake upon a deserted island in Thailand, snowboard from the Andes to the Alps, motor down the Amazon even in a questionable sea-worthy vessel, all while carrying these adventures–these moments to the inner most parts of my memory.
While having coffee with my friend Lynn she reminded me of one of my favorite quotes from the film Good Will Hunting, "So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny ... on every art book ever written. Michelangelo? You know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations. Him and the Pope. Sexual orientation. The whole works, right? I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. Seeing that." I confessed to her that because of that quote, when I was rushing my way through Europe, I still took the time to stop in each city, closing my eyes, taking in the sounds, the smells, the temperature, and how I even felt at that exact moment in time, because regardless of where life took me I wanted to always be able to hold onto each of these cities–recalling them whenever I desired to do so. Even to this day, almost 8 years later, I can still smell the Grand Palace de Bruxelles, hear the echoes from inside the Louvre, feel the cobblestone streets of Zurich beneath my feet, stand in amazement inside the Colosseum, and feel the cool night air as I walk along the Vltava River in Prague. How I anxious I am to store new irreplaceable senses.
So let me propose the question. Where would you go? Help me, help you live out your dream as well...
As more people become aware of this big dream that I'm planning to begin, the question always leads to, "so how long are you going for?" In my thoughts, I enjoy pausing in preparation of the response when I tell people that I have no time limitation for this amazing journey. The most incredible, and still often fearful part of all of this, is where it may take me in life since I'm allowing the wind to carry me to any of the four corners of the earth, and I sense as though my life from here on out has not been written. I know that if I were to stay in Colorado I could imagine, with little anticipation of what my life may continue to be, following a path that is and has been predetermined for quite some time. I know that some of the older coworkers I've had the privilege of both working with and developing friendships with has greatly encouraged me to live out possibly what they cannot. I tell them that I feel as though I'm not just doing this for myself, but for many of those that are unable to do so. Whether that be due to financial or physical restrictions or prior responsibilities, I hope that this continues to inspire people, not just to travel, but to remember their dreams and to begin the process–however long that road may seem–in fulfilling them to the fullest.
I suppose that when you're pursuing a dream, passion follows closely behind. I've had several close friends tell me that it's been quite a while since they've seen this passion in my life, as I've been rather apathetic and melancholy in my demeanor, which saddens me because this is not my true nature. But now that I've committed to living out my dream I feel alive, and at peace.
Not only do I want to bask in the monumental sites around the globe–taking in the beauty of all that this world has to offer–I want to embrace the people and cultures that makes us so unique and different all while unifying us with the same human spirit. I want to surf off the coast of all of the continents, venture into uncharted and unmapped lands far from tourist traps, watch the sunrise over the Serengeti, sleep among an endless sky of stars–free from city lights, salsa dance into the early morning hours, awake upon a deserted island in Thailand, snowboard from the Andes to the Alps, motor down the Amazon even in a questionable sea-worthy vessel, all while carrying these adventures–these moments to the inner most parts of my memory.
While having coffee with my friend Lynn she reminded me of one of my favorite quotes from the film Good Will Hunting, "So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny ... on every art book ever written. Michelangelo? You know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations. Him and the Pope. Sexual orientation. The whole works, right? I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. Seeing that." I confessed to her that because of that quote, when I was rushing my way through Europe, I still took the time to stop in each city, closing my eyes, taking in the sounds, the smells, the temperature, and how I even felt at that exact moment in time, because regardless of where life took me I wanted to always be able to hold onto each of these cities–recalling them whenever I desired to do so. Even to this day, almost 8 years later, I can still smell the Grand Palace de Bruxelles, hear the echoes from inside the Louvre, feel the cobblestone streets of Zurich beneath my feet, stand in amazement inside the Colosseum, and feel the cool night air as I walk along the Vltava River in Prague. How I anxious I am to store new irreplaceable senses.
So let me propose the question. Where would you go? Help me, help you live out your dream as well...
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