It Begins

When I was 18, my parents took my sister and me to Mexico for Christmas.  It was my first time in a country where English wasn’t the predominantly spoken language, and where people didn’t live like we did.  It was fascinating to me.  Then, in my third year of university, I had an opportunity to do an internship in Malaysia for 6 weeks.  It was an eye opening experience, filled with sights, sounds and smells that were completely foreign to me, and one I loved.  As a result, when I graduated from University, the plan was to get a “big girl” job, work for a couple of years, save my money, and then get out and see the world.  Not to tick the places off on a list, or to collect the stamps in my passport, but to revel in the experiences that were outside my sphere.  It was a wonderful plan, and it sustained me through many an hour sitting in a cubicle, staring at a computer screen.  But then being what is typically viewed as a “grown up” got in the way.   The goal switched, from a rootless existence travelling to setting down roots and building a career and a life.  I’d get that restless feeling about every 12 to 18 months, at which point, I’d take a 1 to 2 week vacation in Mexico, China, or South East Asia to sate the urge, and then go back to my nice little life.

                And then, I found my journal – the journal that I’d written in when I first graduated.  And I spent an eye opening evening reading it.  And thoughts started to niggle in the back of my mind – how could I just put these dreams to the side?  And how could I, for all intents and purposes, put my “grown up life” on hold, and take a year to even live a portion of my dream?  Those niggling thoughts wouldn’t go away, and I’d find myself talking about them with friends – almost looking for an answer one way or another.  Am I crazy?  Or is this the sanest thing I’ve ever thought of doing?  And the more I talked about it, the more I realized that this is something I have to do.  And from there, plans and logistics just seem to have fallen into place.

                The long and short of it is, on October 25, 2010, I’m getting on a plane to Sydney Australia.  Is there a plan for the year?  No.  There is a list of things that we’d like to see and do, but no schedule.  And at this point, a rootless existence appeals to me.  I want to see things that aren’t in my realm of normal.  In fact, I want to redefine what I view as normal.  And as of right now, it starts with a backpack.