'Before I die, I want to stand on an ice sheet and in an orange desert and see nothing but vast sky.'
I didn't dream of travel particularly; I was a home bird who liked being in England and at most longed to visit the ancient sites of the British Isles and Ireland. I was the last of my (three, younger) siblings to really travel in the true sense of the word. I couldn't wait to leave school and go to Art College so having a gap year was very far from my mind. Also I admit I was terrified of the idea! Despite leaving home to go to college, then moving to London soon after and virtually disappearing from the family landscape in my twenties, I needed my friends and soul family more than they ever knew.
Life moves in waves both destructive and creative. A gradual building up and gathering of people, places, somewhere to work, to call home and then things fall apart and disintegrate in your hands like dust only to pull back and move through to the next wave. Beneath it the sandy beach of your soul undulates and changes, old beliefs eroding and others revealed as treasures - curled shells upon the golden curve of Self.
It is only later in life that one acknowledges an undercurrent of restless energy, of courage and calling. Something reminds you of a story once read long ago where the heroine stood alone in a desert and understood profoundly her own being for the first time in her life. How profoundly that touched you and your young self, but what to do with it? Pocket it away until you have lived enough to need it...