I have been walking around in an anxious haze for the past month and it’s only getting worse. This dream seemed so far away when we originally thought it up, but those 8 months have flown by (as time always does), and now the reality of it is knocking at our door. We’re down to our last 25 days of life as we’ve known it for the past several years and soon we’re going to wake up in the morning without a job, without a house, without a schedule and without a plan. I am a tumbling whirlwind of emotion, catching myself crying tears of excitement and anticipation one moment and tears of sadness and fear the next. I no longer get the occasional nervous chill shooting down my spine when I think about this trip; it has now consumed me and there is a constant ‘pins and needles’ feeling in my neck and spine, butterflies in my stomach and the general disbelief that we’re actually going to go for it.
Everything is winding down. We are almost completely moved out of our house and it seems like only yesterday we walked into this empty place with visions of how to make it our home. Both of our employers know of our plans and are working to replace us. It’s a strange feeling watching your life be overtaken while you’re still living it, but that’s the way it goes when you voluntarily choose to step out of life for a while.
I was talking with a friend the other day about why this adventure has such a different feel than any other trip I have ever taken before. We realized it’s because, unlike the majority of vacations, this one has no set end date and no established life that we know we’ll be returning to. There also seems to be a sense of finality as our departure date approaches. I desperately hate saying good-bye, but know deep down that this is a major transition period and I have to say farewell to many of the people, places and things from this segment of my life. Everything is open ended, which is one of the most exciting aspects of this trip, but it’s also an extremely frightening concept to grasp!