That flight out of London was a very bizarre sensation – not being on an airplane, but rather knowing that the flight was taking me back to YYZ… For days before, I was buzzing with apprehension and reluctance to leave that life from a backpack, but also a growing excitement to see my cats and family and friends again. On the one hand, I didn’t want the adventure to ever end; but on the other, I was beyond excited to have a room to myself, fresh clothes, and brimming with anticipation to initiate the big dreams that would carry me forward…
(and to win back the affection of my cats).
In addition to everything I learned along the road, through those times when I was being led through the dark by strangers and along a thin thread of hopeful trust, to the times I woke up in my sleeping bag in the cold, struggling and twisting inside to find my airhole, to the times when a young baboon sat on my lap and, for a brief but timeless moment, looked into my eyes and held me there, motionless in the gaze, to the times I fell from the sky, swam with sharks, crawled into catacombs, and relished the view on mountain tops, there is one lesson that sticks with me everywhere I go. Now, there are no shadows of doubt to cripple my confidence to undertake it:
Live like you mean it.
Every moment, every breath, every smile, every tear, everywhere.
Though this means the end of that life-changing adventure, it is the beginning of something more, and I have never been so inspired to make it happen.
I am also happy to report that after a few treats, playing, and saying their nicknames with the inflection that only I ever have, it’s just like old times… :)