Sunday, January 9, 2011

leaving on a jet plane

Tomorrow I am waking up very early to get on a plane for a number of hours that I refuse to acknowledge. Point is, by Tuesday morning I will (God willing) be in Buenos Aires and off on my big adventure.

Much as I can’t say I’m looking forward to a day’s worth of air travel in far too close proximity to my fellow humans—there’s something gratifying about a voyage that can’t be negated by one bad movie and a catnap, a trip that takes a while. When you land somewhere after a full day’s travel, you feel as though you must be far from your life at home indeed. I’m counting on this sensation to free me up from all of the things that have been so preoccupying me these past few weeks. I’ve resolved not to think about what other more sensible things I might have done with the money I’m spending on this trip, not to think about what could go wrong or how I will feel if the whole thing doesn’t live up to my expectations. I will not to think about work or what I’m doing with my life or the capital ‘F’ future. I will not to think (too much) about the book and whether I will get published this time around or ever. And I absolutely will not think about him.

What I want is to be in the moment and to absorb the experiences as they come at me. I want to take a lot of pictures (something I always neglect to do) and not only remember it always but be there while it’s happening.

Do you live in the moment or do you get stuck in your own head?  


  1. Bon voyage Spring! I try to live in the moment but I'm usually away with the fairies . . .

  2. Have a wonderful time, Spring!

    I live almost entirely in my own head, with a man who lives almost entirely in the moment. I asked him once what he thinks about during his drive home and he said, "Driving."