When you read this, I'll likely be sitting on an airplane from Seattle to Paris. It'll be cramped and the flight attendants will be speaking in French and I'll have no idea what they're saying and the person next to me will look like they just got out of prison, or the hospital.
Yeah, you're not feeling too sympathetic to me, are you?
And the south of France.
I know. I can't wait.
But just because I'm gone doesn't mean the blog won't continue. As mentioned in a previous post, I hope to be able to blog from Pezenas, unlike last year when I got to France and realized you can't freaking blog from an Ipad. And I have at least one guest post scheduled.
Also–there's seven years of content, over 1,000 articles to explore on this site. (One of these days I've got to figure out a better way to organize it. I've tried and failed in the past.)
And before I leave, I want to say something about travel that bears on writing. One word:
I've realized that a lot of what we fear in travel is discomfort. We fear not being able to communicate, sleeping in an uncomfortable bed, eating weird food and drinking water that makes us sick. Getting lost or missing a plane.
And then when one or more of those things happens, we realize its not that bad. And then you feel really good for having worked through the discomfort. All of which adds up to something my wise friend Mayanna said yesterday: "I've learned that I have to do things that scare me."
And sometimes traveling is scary, or at least anxiety-producing.
Much like writing, no?
So next time you're in the middle of a writing session and you stop, paralyzed with fear because it has suddenly occurred to you that what you are writing sucks beyond repair, remember that a little discomfort is good. Because it forces us to go places we've not been, whether in the real world or your writing world.
And remember how much better you'll feel once you have pushed through it.
So, what about you? Do you like to travel? Where's the most recent place you've traveled to?
Photo by Shawn Allen.