Flee, flee screaming in the direction of your wildest dreams

We found a home, finally, to suffice while we make the preparations for our Great Adventure. It is old and in the city, the neighboring bridge to Canada a gentle reminder of our purpose and goals. The apartment is inexpensive enough that we can live and eat and pay our bills on my meager paycheck, thereby saving everything that Remy makes for our travels.

Last evening, we attended a going away party for a coworker/friend who is moving to be nearer to her family in L.A. I, ever the party avoider, sat in a corner all evening and talked to one person, a person that was an inspiration disguised as an introvert. We talked of our mutual dreams, dreams of working for ourselves as writers/creatives, dreams of winning the MacArthur Foundation Award, dreams of sustainable living, dreams of communal living, dreams of following our dreams, of traveling the world, seeing its insides and its outs. We spoke of the brevity of life, of the encroachment of time and the self-imposed pressure of making a mark, of progressing mankind in some way before we draw our last breath.

I hear so often my peers talk this way and I wonder what would happen if we were all to revolt, leave our jobs and live for ourselves doing precisely what we dream to do and turning the world on its ear. I am filled to the brim today with longing for that revolution.