So on top the whole crazy heath thing, there was something else bugging me. I’d been skulking around the past couple years, vaguely irritated, a little snippy, and with some kind of weird itch I just couldn’t scratch. Something was eating at me. Why was I wasting hours on end playing stupid video games? Why would I stare at my guitar for an hour, but not pick it up? Why the hell was I feeling like I was in some kind of limbo? Why couldn’t I settle down and buy a house? I would go on great trips with my buds, Aspen, Portugal, Argentina, but at the end of the trip I would fall right back into a funk.
Last December, I spent a month down in Baja, kiting every day. I was looking forward to this trip for a whole year. But it felt like it ended way too soon. I came back to LA wishing I had another 6 months down there. Of course, I knew what it was the whole time. I missed traveling. No. More than missed it. I yearned for it. I would wake up in the morning, and instead of going to the office, I would day-dream I was about to catch a flight to some far-off place. I would drive to the Inn-n-Out Burger at LAX just to watch 747's take off. It was getting bad.
It was time to hit the road again. Obviously I was worried about my health. What if something happened when I in a remote place with no health-care? Would I be up for the rigors of another Himalayan hiking trip, the altitude? Would I black out on a scuba diving trip? I could be serious trouble. But then I would just think back to the ride in the ambulance, and that I was OK with dying. These were all risks that I had to take, and I was ready to take.
So, here I am again. Again! In the planning stages for another year away, getting lost, and finding myself once more. Its more than exciting. Its like this wave of bubbling euphoria, slowly building. Getting on that first flight will be scary and exciting, and for so many different reasons than in 2006. Its almost time to go……