About an hour ago, I wrote the last page in my travel journal. It’s just a book? It’s just a book. I keep saying that to myself, but for the last 60 minutes I’ve been carrying it around the house, me staring at it, it staring at me, both of us completely unsure what to do with the other now.
My first reflex is to feel that it comes at an awkward time, I’m not quite at the end of anything, nor am I ready to start something completely new. The same sort of feeling as if I had a bad day at work, only to come home and be greeted with my diary breaking up with me. Why? Why now? 14 months of self discovery and you leave me 5 pages early!? (I had sadly forgotten I used a few pages at the back to make a few drawings and lists etc. so the end was truly altogether unexpected, cursed blog title).
My second reflex is to acknowledge that I have a habit of reading into things. A close friend of mine once staying, “Geez Kaitlyn, you read into everything.” I read into that. It bothered me for days. Even with all that in mind, it still feels like there’s something about the ending of this thing that needs to be reflected upon.
This journal, it had a definite start and a definite end. And all things being equal, as a human, so do I, so do we all. But this isn’t the end of anything, the destination, the X on the treasure map.
Having recently survived the aforementioned ridiculous seafaring adventure, I can tell you that those who argue whether its about “the journey” or “the destination” must have never traveled in a cyclone. Trust me, when you’re getting pelted with saltwater for 3 hours, you’re not really sitting there embracing the journey or the destination. It’s about the bloody ship surviving to tell of either of them.
There are good days and bad days, some things will blow holes in you other things will rot your hull. You’ll inevitably make a lot of repairs, but if you invest your time and effort, you’ll see that really they’re improvements. The things you learn, these are your sails. And if you never stop chasing yourself, you’ll be amazed where you’ll go.
My first reflex is to feel that it comes at an awkward time, I’m not quite at the end of anything, nor am I ready to start something completely new. The same sort of feeling as if I had a bad day at work, only to come home and be greeted with my diary breaking up with me. Why? Why now? 14 months of self discovery and you leave me 5 pages early!? (I had sadly forgotten I used a few pages at the back to make a few drawings and lists etc. so the end was truly altogether unexpected, cursed blog title).
My second reflex is to acknowledge that I have a habit of reading into things. A close friend of mine once staying, “Geez Kaitlyn, you read into everything.” I read into that. It bothered me for days. Even with all that in mind, it still feels like there’s something about the ending of this thing that needs to be reflected upon.
- 488 days ago I write my first entry in Germany.
- On Day 67 I started writing in cursive for no apparent reason, and never stopped.
- The last time I kept a record of the day was Day 315 and I was in the departure lounge at JFK airport heading home for Christmas.
- I didn’t write for the entire two months I was home.
- On one page, I write three separate entries spanning the events of 4 days.
- On another day, I write 6 pages in one go.
- Some days I wrote my location, usually if it was the first day of being somewhere else.
- There are 4 different countries, but countless towns listed.
- With only pages left to go, the diary suffers a bit of water damage on the completely soaked wild boat ride out to Karkar, not too bad, it could have been a lot worse.
This journal, it had a definite start and a definite end. And all things being equal, as a human, so do I, so do we all. But this isn’t the end of anything, the destination, the X on the treasure map.
Having recently survived the aforementioned ridiculous seafaring adventure, I can tell you that those who argue whether its about “the journey” or “the destination” must have never traveled in a cyclone. Trust me, when you’re getting pelted with saltwater for 3 hours, you’re not really sitting there embracing the journey or the destination. It’s about the bloody ship surviving to tell of either of them.
There are good days and bad days, some things will blow holes in you other things will rot your hull. You’ll inevitably make a lot of repairs, but if you invest your time and effort, you’ll see that really they’re improvements. The things you learn, these are your sails. And if you never stop chasing yourself, you’ll be amazed where you’ll go.
This ship was nought to me, nor I to her
Yet I pursued her with a lover’s look;
This ship to all the rest did I prefer:
When will she turn and whither? She will brook
No tarrying; where she comes the winds must stir:
On went she, and due north her journey took.
-William Wordsworth
