My mind is wandering as I sit on this bus driving through rural Washington state. I see a woman jogging, cute homes hidden by trees, a man riding a horse down the street, snow capped peaks in the distance, and I wonder what my life might be like here. More wholesome, perhaps.
What sort of life might I have in this house in Astoria, Oregon?
I was wondering the same thing in Chiang Mai a few weeks ago when I realized it had a plethora of charm, bicycles, and tasty bites. Maybe it's the nature of my job; I could feasibly live and work in most places.
Last week I visited a vegan restaurant on Sihanoukville called 'Dao of Life.' Except, it was so much more than a restaurant. It was an old house with high, grand ceilings. The rooftop had a yoga studio/movie screening room with bean bags chairs and hammocks. Kittens roamed freely, art covered each wall, and the book exchange was overflowing. I could own a place like this, I thought.
But here in Washington, I think of this potential future as well. I could have a cute little cottage in the woods, and finally surrender to my inevitable hermitude and read my way through my goodreads list without any distractions.
In this air streamer in Seattle?
I'm not sure any one of these possibilities would provide more meaning or fulfillment than another. I'd probably dig into the community no matter where I end up, but I might be unknowingly less inspired in some places.
Does anyone else feel torn about all the possible lives they could be living? How the hell am I supposed to pick one?!
In this downtown hobbit house in Vancouver?
I've obviously just finished traveling around the Pacific Northwest and have fallen head over heels in love with its quirks, majestic trees, dive bars, used book stores, and progressive politics. That's another post for another time.