Lost, and Then Found Once More: On Traveling Alone Without Sight
“The feeling of being out on my own is worth all the fear I must fight to get there.”
Here I sit again. Once more I find myself seated and facing the helpful travel agent who made all the necessary arrangements for my trip. I’m not certain if being here is right—in a way, it feels like I’m going backwards. Like I will undo all the progress I’ve made, all that confidence gained.
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My parents were old. It was time to take seriously the last years we had left. That is not, of course, how they saw things.
I need the ocean to quiet my thoughts, the surfers to remind me I’m a person, the Taco Bell as a place where I become solid again.