If I ever wrote a novel, I would do it on a train, a series of many trains one after another. There’s something so inspiring about moving from place to place. I read recently that what we all really want in life is to travel and fall in love. The latter is left to happenstance and the openhearted, and that’s what makes it beautiful. Travel however for most of us will always be a choice, a priority we make or forego. The farther we get away from it all, the clearer it all becomes. Away from all the things surrounding us every day we can see from the outside what we really carry within, the story we really want to tell.
This day I had a ticket to ride and I was late. The whistle blew and I jumped in (to somebody else’s seat) out of breath as the train began moving. They say never chase a man, and never run to catch a train…there will always be another. This day at the other end of my travels was someone I love very much, and some trains and some people are worth running for. When I got where I was going, it rained every day and all the way back to Paris. But I have no regrets, because we all know it’s not the destination, it’s the journey so today that’s the little big story I wanted to tell.