I get attached.

I have freewheeling, seemingly careless, sometimes plan-less moments that last from days to months (to years my parents might argue). I choose the reckless choice, I choose confusing, I choose the money-heavy ill planned options, I go muddy, I have unexplainable life experiences that are sometimes baffling. I end up on wrong trains, wrong trips, sick to my stomach, sick in the head, with bruises and cuts and small victories and defeats. I meet the right people, see the incredible sun rise, sit in awe of myself, shift the car with my left hand and drive left, laughing out loud that this is in fact what I have chose.

I sat in front of the computer, the option to go. I scroll between the purple 'buy' and the clear 'delete' buttons. I scroll. I sit. I open a bottle of wine. I sip. I scroll. I entertain my options. I walk away. I sleep on it, I wake up. I turn the ignition of my car and Springsteen's Glory Days plays and I go back in and I go upstairs and I bulldoze in and I sit and I go back to the button and I press "BUY".

If Nancy Dixon and Costa Rica could have verbalized a decision that was to be how it came. So I go, backpack full of shorts and suits and suntan lotion, devoid of expectation with only minimal hope that I can stay safe, learn something about surfing and maybe some Spanish. That my month away will give me time to ponder, to walk, to write, to asana, to believe.

I get attached. I fell a little in love with Calgary. I trekked the 8th Street route to and from Copeman for six months as I muddled through winter and my own catapulting thoughts. I made friends in all the unexpected places. I learned. I laughed. I cried- a lot. But attachment doesn't do anything besides stick me like glue to what I know. So I chose buy, so I go. I try to shrug off the last experience in Piedmont that left me cold in the heart and torn in spirit and I harness the spirit of all the other brave people who go and I pack up. And I go.

I cannot imagine what this adventure holds. But it will be something.

Walk with me as I go again. I detach, I choose not to stop, to be unstoppable, to be bulletproof. I prepare for the airport, the airplanes, the buses and boats that will take me to a new place.

Attachment has photos:

Where Hillary and I live- Downtown Calgary. Notice the snow and ice- this is April in the photo...

I just can't sit at a desk that long. I would roll my chair around in the back. I would dance in the lab for Angela. I would close my door and sit cross legged on the floor. I would work. I would drink coffee out of my "Holly" cup Mat brought me home from Korea.

... and then Lisa and I would go to Starbucks or buy Rittersport.
I spent all kinds of occasions with my family! Hillary's 24th Birthday...

and thomas' graduation. Yeah! Little Brother!

Hillary and I did all kinds of cool/ funny things. Shadow puppetry, coffee and wine sampling, fine and lousy dining, Saturday morning parties and skating at the ice rink. I was deeply amused by our "lists".

Attachment has photos... but detatchment has an experience. I dive into it...