Just dawned on me that this time last year I was in Agra, witnessing the Taj for the first time…strange how it feels like a lifetime ago now.
It seems we are bound as children of the wanderlust, to keep moving, driven by an insatiable appetite for expansion…all the while forgetting that we leave pieces of ourselves behind. And when we finally stop and look back on it all, we find that we are as scattered and expansive as the earth we so desperately move through.
“There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t sit still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain’s crest; Their’s is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don’t know how to rest.”
― Robert W. Service