Ok, I’ve been very, very bad about not writing posts lately. Something has kept me away from my blogging. I’m usually inspired to write when I travel. Over the past month, I was in Arizona, California, back to Arizona, New Mexico (Santa Fe, land that I love), and then back to Arkansas, and I did not write one single blog post. I’ve been a bad boy. Virtually smacking my own hand.

I read my last post before I started this one, as I usually do, and noticed I was quite heated about having to leave and travel for a month. Looking back at everything, it was a good thing that I traveled, as it usually is. I think the main thing that had me so heated was the fact that I did not leave by choice. I was “coerced” for lack of a better word. I’ve been staying with my parents a significant amount of time over the last year and a half, so I do have to look at things from their perspective. Besides, I’ve been a nomad for so long now, it’s not like I was even doing anything out of the ordinary. Even though I am looking forward to getting back under my own roof, I’m still thinking about being on the road again, even after I settle in to my humble abode in Largo.

My last adventure began as I set out to see a good friend in Arizona, Sedona to be exact. It was great to be back in Sedona, and since my friend also works remotely, we coexisted very well. Days mainly involved working by day, eating dinner, and staying up the rest of the night talking about our old friends, memories, places we’ve been, and other ways we seem to connect as we have since both living in Florida many years ago.

After spending a week in Sedona, I set out to see my aunt in California. It was good to get the chance to visit her, as I haven’t seen her for a few years now, mainly because of the pandemic. I was all set to fly out to Burbank back in 2020, flight tickets in hand, when I got a text from my aunt saying she wasn’t sure I should come over due to the Coronavirus outbreak, which was just coming out at the time, at least in this country. Since that time, I had been in Cali a couple of times, but I wasn’t vaccinated, and my aunt was very worried about contracting the virus, as many people were of course. Unfortunately, my cousin, her son, passed away under very tragic circumstances, so a lot had happened since my last time being there for a visit. Alas, it was a very important time to connect and catch up.

After California, it was back to Arizona, same place in Sedona. It was great to get in the extra time there, and we pretty much carried on in the same fashion as my previous week there. There really is something about Sedona having healing energy, I’m convinced. It seemed like issues that have been on my mind were just calmed down for me mentally during my time there. I’ve always heard of Sedona being very spiritual in nature, and I for one believe those claims.

Following the second round in Sedona, I stayed at an Airbnb in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I hadn’t been back to Santa Fe since I wrote my first blog, before this one. Santa Fe is another one of those areas that just seems to resonate for me. I love the people there, but beyond that it just feels like one of those areas where I belong. Of the places I’ve visited in this country, Santa Fe truly feels like a place I could plant myself eventually, if I ever end up doing such a thing.

Now, back in Arkansas, I’m starting to get ready to relocate, after seven years, to my house in Florida. I have mixed feelings about being back, but this time, I have an agenda. My goal is to do the work that needs to be done to my house, as I work my remote job, which has now gone on for 71 days and counting. I have determined that my travels have been necessary for me. I have learned new ways to adapt and adjust to what is going on in my life as I keep going more miles down the road. Interestingly enough, my aunt in California mentioned a Turkish lady that was once in our family, apparently. She had a mule wagon, and every once in a while, she would load it up and be gone for months. I’d like to think my Mazda can get along a bit faster than a mule wagon, but I can’t help think maybe I’m carrying on a tradition of some sort in my lineage, getting away from the mundane of everyday living, just like the Old Turk, loading up the mule wagon once again.