I found this old reflection from a holiday I took in 2016. It is so odd to read it in 2020. After I travelled so much in 2019 that I longed for a home, for the comfort and security of a place to call my own. After a pandemic shut down the world, shut down borders, rendered travel impossible. After a second wave of virus hit Melbourne and made it illegal to travel more than 5 kilometres from your doorstep. In a twisted way, it’s like I got my 2019 wish to an exaggerated degree. I look at those words below, about being passionate about travel, about living in the moment, about living an intentionalist life, and I feel it is a nice way to end the last month of Intentionalism posts.

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