Does it matter where I end up, or only that I’m going somewhere?
Somewhere else. Away. Changing. Leaving.
I’m not one to hold onto the past, I say. But letting go is hard.
If only I was a tourist, I say, but I’ve never wanted to be one. I want a real life, solid, working, not a make-believe-for-a-week one. A point and a purpose. Does this make sense? I am rambling. In words. In miles. I might lose you. Leave you behind. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to fill your place. Your space in my life. But I will fill it with new life, novel adventures, fresh views. Can we choose what we carry with us?
Change. Only a blind man does not look back from time to time. I can look, but try not to touch. Sometimes, I’ve learned, we also must let go of that rope. It’s binding. Holding us down when it’s time to fly free.
But, dang, it’s scary flying among thin clouds. I’m scared. Permanence, grounding. These sound so attractive. A friend once told me she was firmly planted with her feet in the clouds. I understand and now feel the same. It’s not a new feeling. I’ve been here before. A familiar place. At once recognizable and so uncertain.
When do we touch down, stay down? Or maybe is there more to life that settling down and staying.
Something about leaving… What is it that draws us onward?
Gin Getz 
Carl Jung wrote about the vocation that is to gain true personality. Few want to become individuated for that means lonely separation from the majority. A few are driven on to become themselves, and those who take that path through conscious choice help create our culture and interpret morality. You have that vocation and have chosen to follow it. The goal now is you: the person whom you are drawn to become. Places become less important, and indeed on that path one becomes a stone rolling rather than a gatherer of moss – imagine a Gandalf rather than a Bombadil. That analysis sounds comfortless, and in a sense it is. The comfort comes from within, not from an easy life, certainty and stability such as the masses crave.
I will have to read your words over and over, Julian, for they are wise and I do hope true, and just what I needed to hear. Now to dive deeper into the still forest pool, disturb the surface, and find what may be below. Certainly nothing like the reflection upon the calm and glassy facade.