The French have a word we don’t possess in English. Errance. It means “to travel without any clear destination.” Isn’t that rather a lovely word?
For most of my friends, I know my plan – to not have a plan – is physically discomforting. I understand. They care for me, and above wanting me to have happiness and a deeper fulfillment. They want my safety. I desire safety for myself, too. Which is part of the reason I’m not planning a PanAmerican drive from Nogales through Darien Gap. Although, I would -LOVE- to do that. I don’t have a death wish, and I’m not an adventure junkie. However, I am insistent that – as of right now – I cannot force a prescriptive process to what I am going to do next after having completely dismantled my life in Phoenix. Selling all of my possessions and accounting my belongings to 12 boxes that now reside in my mom and stepfather’s basement was not a decision – nor action – I took lightly. But… deconstruction to rebuild at a later time… IS… the very process.
Oh, and if I could afford to, I’d gladly set a clear destination back to this view atop a hill in Nosara, CR.