The past couple of months have been such a crazy whirlwind, and although I’d like to believe that will slow down soon, with the holidaze almost upon us, so I’m finding that hard to believe.
Last week I was in Iceland. I still hadn’t fully unpacked my suitcase from California when I was prepping for that trip.
A part of me loathes the break-neck pace at which I always find myself going; a part of me cannot imagine living any other way. Don’t get me wrong–I live for the lazy days of bad TV and sloth-like activity, but I also find myself obsessively driven to do things, to go places, to see, to experience, to try, to explore. I keep thinking I’ll “settle down” soon and the itch to keep go, go, going will one day go away, but then I wonder if that’s something I really want?
This mentality/obsession with exploring/trying new things isn’t new–I’ve always had that drive, but I think it’s been amplified by my mother’s early diagnosis with Alzheimer’s. Everyone knows that life is short, and the time they have is not guaranteed, but I feel like that countdown is ticking even more profoundly for me–what if Alzheimer’s cuts the time I’m able to enjoy my life even shorter? I don’t know how many “good” years I’ll be guaranteed–maybe I’ll live a long, healthy life ’til the end–maybe I won’t remember my own name by 55. Who knows… but I do know that I want to visit every continent, and every state, and I want to take singing lessons, and I’d really like to learn another language. And I refuse to miss my chance on any of these things. So…full speed ahead, I guess?