Sometimes I just have to ask: Where the hell are you Michael?
I have found myself in so many situations that are almost unbelievable even for me.
Not because I don’t believe these situations don’t exist but because I never saw myself as the character in the situation. I never imagined I’d go so far or so strange.

This is where my mind wanders lately. As the return home rushes forward silently I remind myself of some of the strangest situations I’ve experienced along my 8 months abroad. I know now that 8 months of travel is not so unique among Europeans or many of the other western nations of the world. There are many places where most people travel and the stranger thing is to stay home.

For me though 8 months is a lifetime of experiences and each one is significant in its own right.

The other day I was drinking beer in an elegantly grungy hazy bar. The bartender dressed like a cowboy and if he had a horse outside he would have been too drunk to ride home. His hat matched his suspenders and the mustache really lit the picture perfect scene. This is when I began to think about how many odd scenes I have been a part of. It became apparent after some thought that a Danish cowboy serving me a beer was not the oddest thing I’ve seen.

I look back at these scenes as examples of how my ability surpasses my belief. This is true not because I am great but because when I look at the steps I don’t see the door. I have found that the way life moves is far more mysterious than I can see in front of me. At times some of the blurry story can be seen looking back but the ahead-of-time is a Rubix cube of complexity. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to solve a Rubix cube without touching it, it might be difficult.

I keep wondering what the simple story of this journey is. I think that I don’t really understand something until I can tell it in a simple way, and in multiple ways. So far the words aren’t there for me but I remind myself that the journey isn’t over. It may take seeing the end in order to see the pieces fit.
The only problem is that there is no end to my journey.
Coming home is no end, just as leaving home is no beginning.
These ideas are ideas I made up. Sometimes I need to think of things as separate so I can give myself a more special place. This trip was separate into a single adventure because of my need for this trip to be a special opportunity to grow and learn. I didn’t believe I could get what I wanted at home so I had to leave and something made it necessary for me to look at the first day of my trip as a new day. I had to leave some things behind in order to go forward. I think its hard for me to always feel like I’m on a journey.
Because of this I think of home as a non-moving sort of place, a comfortable place where I can relax in who I am.
But the journey is released from this place of calm, it is separate into a space of misty seeking and sparkling discoveries.
This is probably made up and since it is made up I may not find any end at the so called “End” of my trip.
I might not know how I got here but I am happy here.
The journey doesn’t end, there are no mistakes and all directions of motion are forward.