Infinite Arms

So, here I still am. In the naive plan making that was this trip I thought I would be on another continent by now. Next time I'm not buying a plane ticket. Next time I'm making no promises, not to anyone or myself. I'll go when I'm good and ready, thank you. Vaguely shaping in the future in front of my eyes I see returning to complete the journey I set out to, but whether that is the nearer or further future it's not apparent. Here are more possibilities than I ever could have dreamed. The shape of he master plan looks something like this, thus far: complete my dive master course, maybe stick around, maybe go to catch the flight I already booked out of Buenos Aires a few days before the Christmas holiday. As soon as I have enough money, leave for an undetermined location to find work diving (Asia, Australia, South Pacific, etc). Work til I want to leave and find the next destination. Travel, work, dive, live. What could be better? Careers can wait. Life can wait, but this is my life and it's finally real.

A Land Without Time

It's been awhile... I've lost track of any sense of time. Just mark the days by when people leave, what number dive tallied. It's not reality. Or maybe it's the only real thing and everything else is the false life. I'm almost sure it's the latter. Because if this wasn't real, what would be the point at all? I think I've been on this little island (Utila, Honduras) for nearly 3 weeks now. It seems like nothing, though the small aches of missing the people I started out with marks the time better than a calendar page. But this is a lull before the real work starts. I've completed my first two courses, the open water and advanced open water course, and just finished the emergency first response exam. Next will be the rescue diver course, log some more dives, then start traing for my dive master. Crazy but it should be great. Learning new job skills is never a bad thing.

P.S. Photos as soon as I have Internet that's not so slow!

Archive: 30 August 2010

There is nothing in the world quite like real, pure freedom. I can only hazard a guess at what those true explorers of the unknowns of this world have felt. What they lived and died and suffered for. The freedom to go into the unknown, alone, to discover something absolutely foreign. Well, I am not sure weather that experience exists on a certain level anymore, but the essence remains the same. Sure, I have always had the ability to make my own way, but there has always been structure to my life shaping the choices I've made. Had to find a job to afford the apartment to live where I wanted to. But traveling is different. Almost nearly true freedom to decide where I want to go and when. The only actual limiting factor is money, as usual. Time, well I've got the rest of my life. I have no commitments if I don't want to make any. Even the ones I chose now feel like binding chains. To float on the current is the best feeling. Now, I want it to last forever. My home is nowhere, and that's okay.