Riding the emotional Swells that travel brings

Ketchikan, Alaska

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I am riding the swells of emotions that travel brings as if paddling through six-foot waves. When I reach each crest, I feel the ecstasy of the present. I can see everything and everyone around me and therefore soak up this clarity. The story I forecasted is being written in real time. My heart skips with bliss. I ride the high with intention because I know it is only temporary. The rise and fall of the waves is a predictable push and pull. 

So when I fall into the troughs, I am caught in the quiet wavelength where what or who lies on the other side of the wave is now merely a memory or a daydream. When the wave finally crashes over me, I collide with the simultaneous feelings of nostalgia, anticipation, longing, and anxiety of facing the reality and responsibilities that the incoming tide of returning home brings.

The passage of time is both objective and subjective. No matter how much I want the joy to settle, it passes. When I want the sorrow to pass, it lingers. The past two months were marked by this rhythm of joy and sorrow. I had the privilege of traveling to Boston, Ireland, Duluth, and Alaska in that period. Sixty days bursting with once-in-a-lifetime, I-can’t-make-this-up, unbelievable experiences and encounters that are forever inscribed in my journal and memory. 
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I am coming into my identity as a hopeless romantic, not just within my personal life but also within my capacity to actualize my dreams. My emotions are my north star – my intuition is my compass. I take risky leaps but am caught (most of the time) by people who turn “What ifs” into “Let’s make it happen.” And so we write the stories and breathe in the landscapes of the Ring of Kerry and Misty Fjords together. That way, the memories will always live on, and we are thereby fused by the residual wonder.

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