Half way through

Little bit painful... Already (!) half way through.

That way of life, I could probably have it going for a few years. If I had the money, of course. Three months, seems long in the daily life. And when I look behind, I see all I had the time to do. And that is what is scary. Seeing all one can do when he gives himself time to do so. All one can discover. When, with the same three months, at home, I would probably would have just worked, slept, and ate. 

Three months, it's enough to take a distance from our regular life, to take a distant look on what surrounds us. And by taking that distance, you see clearly the obstacles coming ahead. Suddenly, we know where they come from...

Scary also, because the trip is like going down a very long hill on a bike. You start slowly, you pedal faster and faster, keeping your hands close to the brakes, and you end up letting go of the handlebars, getting tipsy of all that wind hitting your face. You only have to make sure you won't fall. And start braking before you hit the wall.

Traveling for three months, it's changing air. Like opening the windows when spring comes. Renewing. Knowing what we're missing. Knowing what we're not missing. Understanding that the decisions we make daily, that won't make everyone happy at home, are bringing us where we want to go when people let us choose our own way. We have a good judgement, after all... Relying on ourseleves, and ourselves only, it's proving (and proving to ourselves) at what speed we can move forward. It's stopping to define ourselves by the image others show us of ourselves. Only because it's better for them.

On the road, with some exceptions, we choose to be only with people we appreciate. Who are not trying to get something from us, if only the good times we spend together. Because they are not forced to stay. Because they will spend time with you only because they feel like they are gonna have a good time.

Example? One could think that the fact I refuse to drink alcohol would be a problem in an environment where youth gathers around a drink. Hostel is a synonym of alcohol. Strangely (the opposite of what I know, at least), nobody tried to force me to drink. Nobody called me a weirdo. Everybody invited me out. I was even invited to a pub crawl, knowing I wouldn't drink, simply because some people wanted to spend some time with me. Coming from people who don't need to talk to me if they don't want to, it makes me think.

Three months to open my eyes. They will probably be widely open after six months.

I just need not to close them back again.

Itinerary

For those who are interested, here are the cities I visited in the last month :

China : Xi'an, Pingyao, Beijing (and the Great Wall)

Japon : Osaka, Mino, Hiroshima, Miyajima, Himeji, Kyoto, (Osaka), Nara, Nagano, Matsumoto, Yamanouchi, Tokyo, Mont Fuji