In reviewing my year, I had a startling realization; maybe adventure isn’t as important to my life as I thought it was.
Last year was the best year of my life, bar none. It should go without saying that I’m incredibly fortunate. But I’m saying it anyway.
I didn’t lose my job. My business actually did better. I saved more money than ever.
My family stayed safe. I got to see them more than any year since high school.
My relationship has improved despite close quarters in which we lived and worked.
I read more, exercised more and wrote more than ever in my life.
Yes I let news consume me at moments, but that was one of the only true drawbacks…which is crazy considering I didn’t leave the country once. I didn’t even explore any new locales domestically.
So what does this mean? Is my identity as a traveler shattered forever?
If I’m being honest, that hasn’t been my identity in a while anyway. Rather just one that has hung on in name only since I actually was a traveler.
Maybe last year was showing me something that I knew all along, but hadn’t yet accepted. Maybe I was afraid to admit that I didn’t mind adventure taking a backseat to other things, like family and friends and reading and writing.
And I’m ok with that. Maybe hanging onto my traveler persona was holding me back from fully integrating a new part of my identity.
But just because I’m ok with that doesn’t mean I’m not booking a flight to Italy as soon as this shit clears up 🙂