Pre-trip Jitters
It hasn’t hit me yet that in two weeks I will be arriving in Paris. I know it’s true, but only superficially. I can only imagine, but can’t grasp that I will be homeless for 4 months (possibly longer if I can’t find a place to live in NYC right away). I have to admit that as this trip approaches, the little piece of me that knows the truth has turned into the whining child not wanting to leave the birthday party just yet. (It’s the best analogy I can come up with at the moment). That part of me feels comfortable here, settled into a routine. It’s something that doesn’t happen too often. But I go to bed at one when I’m tired and wake up at eight without fail to the sunlight streaming through the blinds. It’s comfortable; the child doesn’t want it to change.
One more metaphor, I don’t like it when my feet are cold and wet, and that’s what this child fears, cold, wet feet. Irrational fears are springing up… what if the plane crashes, what if the airline loses my luggage, what if my backpack is stolen? I don’t know Italian, or Turkish or Arabic! I’ve never had these fears before; where have they come from? What happened to that need for travel like it were food? The past few weeks, I’ve managed to feel something I had felt only while traveling, the feeling of living in the present tense, the tomorrow that comes in no more than 24 hours. It’s a wonderful feeling. I suppose I don’t want to disrupt it with change. But then there’s a smaller part of me, just waking up to the smell of adventure. That part says it can only get better. That part is the part that is truly living in the present, and it is wise enough to know that when my flight lands in Paris, I will be jumping in my seat, craning my neck to see out the window. And so it begins, the period of excitement and terror in anticipation. I am about to embark on my third big trip alone. Whew.
Tags: Travel
Drea
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