Bidding the Road Farewell

I'm sitting in Para Coffee in Charlottesville, VA, a stone's throw from the University of Virginia. My alma mater. The kids studying here are so young. I can't help thinking about the way my life has changed since I was one of them. And how it's about to change again.

Fifteen years ago, I left Charlottesville and moved across the country to start a new job and a new life in Seattle, WA. I'm about to do the same thing again. Back then, I was following the path laid out for me by my parents. I didn't know enough about the Path to be unhappy. It would be only a few months before the questions would come: What now? Climb the ladder? Work and save? Is there nothing else?

The unanswered questions eventually drove me to trade the Path for the Road, and it's taken me to some pretty great places like Koh Tao, Thailand. While there, it occurred to me to ask: Why am I doing this? And I had an epiphany of sorts. The Really Big Question is just this: Am I stuck in the life I was born to, or am I free to change it? If I'm not free to change my life -- or if I'm too scared to -- I'm no better than a man living under house arrest. But if I'm truly free, I should be able to give up everything and go out there and make it on my own. You know, prove it, like Thoreau. And just like that, a big piece clicked into place. After two and a half years on the road, I have my proof. That road is mine. I own it.

One question down, many to go. The other answers probably aren't on the Road. I don't know where they are, but I suspect that my best chance at finding them involve being still, building meaningful relationships, and participating in a community.

So once again, I am preparing for a move to Seattle. But this time is different. I'm stepping off the Road onto a Path of my own choosing, and I'm choosing it freely. It feels good. It feels right. Even Thoreau left his shack in the woods eventually. My own experiment at simple living is over for now. A success, I think.

I don't expect to be updating this blog much anymore. Not for a long while, at least. Thanks for reading along. Come visit me in Seattle. There's always room on my couch for you. In my home.