The Gut

I have been feeling at a bit of a loss regarding what to post here…

As I was doing a brief surf this morning I tracked back to a post Hugh made on his site in early November of last year:

Paris is fine. Still basking in the French glow. I've gotten to the point where I prefer speaking French to speaking English on an everyday basis. Sure, with my bloody awful command of the language it makes for limited conversations but hey, at the same time I'm having a real adventure.

Adventures are freaky things, are they not? People long for them in order to cleanse themselves of the oppressive mundanity of everyday life, but when you're actually experiencing one in the present tense, the reality is never quite what you imagined beforehand. What you imagined is quite light and jolly in comparison. The reality has much sharper teeth.

Much sharper.

Hilary Percy comments on Hugh’s post below:

it was spur of the moment, spontaneous, didn't have a job or any idea of what i wanted to do . . . i was travelling around france for a bit this summer after gleefully leaving the corporate world and when i got to paris i simply stopped travelling . . . it has been simultaneously the most terrifying and exciting, the most confusing and satisfying, and the most unstable and and yet assured experience of my life. . . it's the first time in my life i've well and absolutely truly followed my spirit and it's the first time in my life i feel my life (although no where concrete at the moment) is finally on track…

Maybe, just maybe, I should not have come home last summer…

What is the difference between running away versus running towards something?