Despite my recent tales of woe and my dwindling bank account, I can’t deny that this trip has rekindled something I thought might have been lost to time: my inspiration.
I had it in Japan when I stepped off the plane and started writing and taking pictures of everything in sight. I had it in Thailand the first time around as I experienced a culture so different from Japan. I definitely had it in New Zealand as I studied Buddhism and enjoyed days filled with physical labor.
But, I think I was pretty numb to travel when I decided to go to Korea. Not that I didn’t get out of my apartment, but I spent plenty of weekends inside, pondering the future (and killing time with the mega high speed Internet) instead of exploring my surroundings. And I just didn’t feel it… the drive to travel.
For a time, I thought that fire was extinguished. The only reason it had burned in the first place was the novelty of living abroad; once that had worn off (after four years), I didn’t think I could feel that kind of warmth in my travels ever again.
Although I believe I’ve proven myself wrong, I don’t quite understand why. I’m still a little underwhelmed by my present environment, but the fact remains I’ve had more inspired work writing in the past month than in the last year.
This is the middle path I need to find i I’m going to be happy: settling in a place with a good job and the right lady, in which I’m still driven to write my masterpiece.