I had an epiphany today. I’m in Atlanta for family reasons. As cities go, Atlanta is, in my opinion, right up there in my affections with Silver City, Nevada and Paris, Texas – two places I’ve never been.
But I’m happy here, right now. There’s no reason for this, but it’s true. And it occurred to me, that yes, I do like traveling. But also, perhaps just as important, I like getting away from all my crap. I only have a little bit of crap with me: a few shirts, a couple pair of pants, this computer, and a camera. Everything else is back home. I like it there, out of the way.
There are no newspapers or magazines or bills or papers piling up. There are no moose horns on the floor staring up at me.
And everything I have, there’s a place for. So even what little I have I don’t appear to have. It’s hugely satisfying.
If I stay here more than a week though, things would start accumulating. That’s why travel is so great. You’re always on the move, and your stuff can never catch up with you.
Agree? Disagree?
