Day 3

Dublin, Ireland

I am sitting in an Internet Cafe across the street from my hotel waiting out the rainy morning. It might be in vain, because it doesn't appear to let up today, but after the past few days the forced reprieve may just be a little bit of perfect.

The pace of the past few weeks was extremely intense, as it always tends to be with the last minute-ness of packing and moving. I kept the pace fast on purpose, knowing that if I really stopped to consider the implications and ramifications of my choice to travel coming to actual fruition, I would have probably freaked out. I did anyway, but it has been decidedly delayed. The hardest part, naturally, is leaving all of my loved ones. Not being able to see their faces or hear their voices on a regular basis is really strange and is already very difficult. But I knew that and I made the choice to leave anyway.

Leaving my familiars and everything I was dependent on became paramount and necessary when the dust settled after my mom died. As I have mentioned earlier, nothing made sense anymore, and I saw an inherent tendency in myself to retreat as far back as I could go into the safe confines of my daily routine. But I was only satisfied and not inspired. By anything. And as I projected forward, I saw the possibility and eventuality of living out this life and having nothing to show for it but wrinkles and debt. I'll get those anyway, but I want them to be hard won. I want to work for them and not have them just show up over night when I wake up and realize that I am 50 and am just merely satisfied.

No thanks.

So here I am on the third day of my adventure. I decided to go to Dublin because my mom always wanted to see Ireland, and the fact that I decided to land on her birthday...it had a certain amount of tangible symbolism that made this decision all the more real and palatable. It was her gift to me, and I wanted to reciprocate by including the one of the only tangible parts of my mom that I have left...the date of her birth.

Dublin is everything that I envisioned it would be. Of course it is a cosmopolitan city, and that affords me the chance to enjoy all the comforts of home while getting used to the fact that I have no permanence of home. I am staying in a lovely hotel, and while I do not plan to continue staying in such accommodations, it was a perfect choice to begin. There is a lively restaurant and bar and beer garden. I have eaten dinner in the bar both nights. Over the past few months, I consciously made the effort to eat alone in public places because I really had never before and knew that I would be doing a lot of that once I began my travels. It's okay, but I don't love it. I've been burying myself in my journal but I realized last night that doing that is not conducive to striking up conversations with anyone. Naturally one is not the most approachable person when they are busy being pensive and writing. So I decided last night after dinner to do the more difficult thing and sit without using my journal or a book as a defense mechanism. It may not be the most ideal situation, but I promised myself that I would try it at least a few times.

The isolation I feel is intense, and I am going on 3 days without speaking to anyone socially. Granted, it has been lovely to move throughout the world at my own pace, unfettered by the expectations or demands of others, but my mind is balking at the lack of interaction and inventing weird a self-consciousness that I didn't completely subscribe to at home when it came to talking to and meeting new people.

But it has only been three days. And I did make the choice to be an independent traveler. I have to have confidence that it will get easier, especially when I have fully digested that I've actually done this.

For real.

As difficult as it is and is going to be, I did it. And with the things that I have seen already and am going to experience and learn...yeah, I can handle this. :)

xo.