Are You Sure That Grass Isn't Greener?

It sure as hell looks a lot greener. I really think I'd like to jump this fence and find out. What's the harm in hopping over, taking a look around and giving myself the opportunity to really find out if the lawns over there are actually, significantly healthier and more voluptuous?

Exactly, reader. What is the harm? Are you too frightened to open the gate and walk out and away from the familiar and into an unaccustomed atmosphere? Do you believe that you're too comfortable where you are to start up the car and erupt through those white pickets and chain links?

Pay your bills ahead of time, friend. Set a few more dollars aside. Pack a bag. Don't forget your toothbrush. You've got fences, guardrails, and roadblocks to scale.

Look, I get it. I'm not in the financial or schedule-based situation that would allow for me to drop everything and go either. I'm honestly just trying to express the importance of being able to walk away when given the opportunity. Walk away and make the best of it, of course. This isn't meant to be some sermon about running away and hiding from the places you've came from. That's obviously an entirely different situation. I only wish to encourage you to grip the rope firmly and climb it, knowing that anything you've left at the bottom will more than likely be there if and when you decide to descend it one day.

I was fortunate enough to spend the first decade of my life moving from town to town and state to state every few years. I have come to believe that when a person is raised in this lifestyle it creates a distance between the individual and the environment that will forever allow that being to willingly and much more casually abandon the accustomed for the unaccustomed. Certainly I'm no psychologist, but through simply observation, can't you say that the friends and family you have that never left their hometown are notably more apprehensive about migrating from their conventional territory? See, reader?

I can say with some confidence that there is a considerably heavy line between those individuals that are born-and-raised versus those that are more well-traveled and worldly in their life experiences. Though I've still got plenty to see and even more to achieve and realize, I am most definitely the type of person that is forever going to encourage someone to hit the highways and truly experience what else is out there. Don't get me wrong here. I don't expect you to starve to death while marooned in an old city bus in the Alaskan wilderness. Don't be rambunctious enough to go and get your arm pinned by a rock in a small canyon. Simply stay on the main roads if you must. See all the big cities. Only backpack through the most popular tourist destinations. They've got to have those reputations for a reason. There's got to be something worth seeing there, right?

Point is, I suppose, that although you may be comfortable and things may be alright, what if the most beautiful place you could ever imagine is right next door? What if it's across the globe? What if the girl or boy of your dreams is out there waiting for you to cross paths with them? What if the town you'd love to raise your children in isn't actually the one you reside in now? Think about what's stopping you from finding out. Figure out how to break that wall down. As cliché as it sounds, you'll never know until you try, right?

Find that greener grass. Find that softer sand. Find those snow capped mountains or gentle, open plains. I'm willing to bet that you'll regret it forever if you never try.

I close this entry with a paraphrasing of one of my favorite quotes of all time;
"...at least they tried to follow their dream. That's what was great about them. They tried. Not many do."
- Ken Sleight as quoted by Jon Krakauer in his 1996 novel Into The Wild.