So, even though I’ve always known that “travel” is one of those all-round Bucket List items that I desperately want for my life, something quite serious has changed in me in the last little while. A massive shift over the line between dreaming and doing has taken place, and while I am still not entirely sure about my “how” I am quite confident in my “why”. I can’t keep telling myself that you can only travel when you’re young, or when you’re single, or when you don’t have kids. I can’t keep telling my children that they can do anything they set their minds to, and encouraging them to travel as soon as they leave school and not stop for at least ten years, and then hide away to have a little sniffle about how I can’t manage to fit in all the things I want to do with my life and how I wish I had been brave enough before I became too settled. If I wait until all the kids have left the house, there won’t be enough time to fit it all in. And honestly I don’t know about you, but I have heard WAY too many horror stories about how someone finally retired from whatever they were doing only to succumb to some sort of fatal incident before even remotely getting to settle into their “real” life. I can’t do that to myself! Besides, we’re already a pretty unconventional family. We might as well continue adding to our list of all the things we do differently, right?
So I’m planning my next trip. And I’m almost ready to make it happen. I just need to squash that little voice of justification. I recognise the voice though. It’s the same voice that told me that dancing was ridiculous and that the happiness it brought me was of no consequence. It’s the same voice that told me that being a musician is ridiculous, even if it’s just for fun. It’s the same voice that laughs at me for wanting to write, because how on earth is that ever going to work?
I’m starting to figure you out, voice. And I’m getting better at telling you to eff off.