Travel

A lot of people think the desert is a beautiful place. Certainly there is something western about it that is supposedly appealing.

But as I Stared out at the Grand Canyon I longed for lush green pastures and deep blue creeks with red footbridges. I wished for tan roofs buried in red domes.

I was struck with the seeming meaninglessness of home, especially as the foreginers around me marveled. Distraught with the impossobility of knowing true beauty, I reflected that there was no doubt about it: if you wanted to succeed you had to go abroad. You could do nothing in Arizona.

I questioned my reasons for desiring travel: for I certainly did not want to stay near home, no matter how praised the destination. Did I want it for the glamor?

No. I want it because I feel a deep seated desire to explore, to feel foreign. Going out of you comfort zone becomes an addiction, if not a comfortable one.