I awoke in my grandmother’s house, only an hour from the US/Canadian border with a start. Visions of cobblestone burnt into the back of my eyes, the smell of someplace new in the air, and the pain of disorientation. Nothing had changed, not just yet- I was still in the states, my global adventure had not begun. But I felt different. A familiar difference, like slipping back into an old worn pair of jeans. After staring into the blank darkness of my room for a period of time, waiting for the disorientation to dissipate, I realized that there, are in fact, two versions of myself: one that craves stability and roots, and another that seeks adventure and change. And this disorienting feeling was a return to that alternate self. A self that I had not been for over a year. One that takes risks, and reads people, and embraces change and thrives off of uncertainty.
And so I crossed the border and made my first entrance into a long series of countries. My first stop: Toronto, Ontario. I’m staying for my first few weeks in a house owned by The Precious Blood Missionary. Everyone here is incredibly friendly and nice. The house is on a quiet street, walking distance to many stores, including a Whole Foods market.
I feel like I’m free falling into the unknown. They say all great adventures start with a single step, and I, much like Alice, feel like I’ve jumped head first down a rabbit hole. I’ve gone into another world. Or into The World. Which is not at all what I expected it to be, full of people who are not what they seemed to be, and places that are literally vibrating with potential adventure and uncertainty.
Wish me luck!