See the geese in chevron flight flapping and racing on before the snow
They've got the urge for going and they've got the wings so they can go
~ Joni Mitchell, “Urge for Going”
I was a shy and timorous child. Exceedingly sensitive, so easily hurt, like the sheerest membrane in air or water I silently trembled from the invisible wounds of every atmospheric tremor. Awash in a pool of feeling, I drifted in daydreams. I felt safest in the cocoon of my family, where I was the youngest child by five years. To move outside the family home, out into the world, was risk, which I accomplished with relish if secure in my family’s care. My independent emergence from that chrysalis of home and family into the greater world – which I felt, in time, compelled in pain to achieve – thus began my urge to travel, with my experience in self-development.
To travel is to see the world afresh, to become fresh, if one is open to the experience, openness serving…
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