A Lingering Goodbye

I have loved living in this gorgeous little green valley I’ve called home for 22 life-packed years. However, each day now feels so routine, so predictable, so . . . expected. I am keeping my eye on my next adventure, one that is sure to wake me up from my daily stupor—leaping into the vagabonding lifestyle for which I am taking a full year to prepare.

If you know me, you know I always reach my goals. I see the vision, sharpen it to crystal clarity. I burn it into my brain, then lower my eyes to the next small footsteps I must take to get there. This enormous, exciting leap into the vast unknown of living on the road is the biggest life change that I have ever set for myself. (Maybe aside from earning my chemistry degree at age 44. That was pretty big.)

As the cooling autumn season turns the leaves of the maples, liquidambers, aspens, and ashes to brilliant yellows, golds, oranges, reds, and burgundies, my eyes lift once again to the goal—a beginning, actually—looming ever closer. Two months from today I say goodbye, farewell, adieu, adios to my little town, my home, my life here. I ride the waves of sadness, elation, fear, happiness, concern, and anticipation. And yet, I focus on being present each day. After all, I’m not gone today. Keep reading!