Not All Who Wander Are Lost

img_2141Adventure begins tomorrow. An amuse bouche sort of adventure which will involve getting a coach to Heathrow, boarding a shuttle to my hotel, checking in, hopefully having a bite to eat with my dear friend Adam, and sleeping before getting up stupid early on Thursday for the bigly adventure to start.*

I’m allowed to say bigly, my bigly adventure is in bigly America.

I’m preparing already. I have a lumbersexual shirt on and a Mudhens baseball cap. Could I be any more merican?

It’s now three years since a crisis of faith in life led to heightened anxiety and depression which saw me begin a slow process of support and therapy with Devon’s brilliant (and criminally underfunded) mental health services. At that time my world was feeling increasingly smaller as both the impact of my health problems and my own fears about the impact of my health problems became more pronounced.

As is so often the case, crisis became turning point as the work I ended up doing with my therapist and support workers brought me to a new state of acceptance about my physical and emotional struggles. As last November’s dip proved, it’s ongoing work, I have to keep plugging away at this stuff as best I can even without support. Usually I do pretty well compared to where I was in 2014.

Without the input and support of those who started this work with me I would not have boarded a plane last year and would not be able to do so this week. Without the encouragement and inspiration of certain friends who head out on adventures of their own despite obstacles and complications, I would find this middle aged meandering far more daunting.

Without knowing I am about to spend two weeks in the company of such funny, crazy, brilliant, loving people I wouldn’t be heading for Ohio at all. Travel itself may well broaden the mind but it is the company we keep that enriches the soul.

*I’m not sleeping with Adam. Well, maybe if he brings me flowers…

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