So, the end has come.
From time-to-time on this trip I have jotted things down that I deem worthy of inclusion in this, the final blog. Things that succinctly state the experience or the feelings or the things I have learnt. Things that describe the harrowing journey from blinkered everyman to enlightened being. Ahem.
I've said it before: I'm a lucky lucky boy. A year to one's self is a priceless commodity in AD 2012. For the first time in my adult life I have been free of the pressures of work and of westernised conformity. My thoughts have had the time and space to wander and wallow: through dreams and sights to experiences and memories, some long-forgotten. I've written about my thoughts, read about them, tried to make sense of them. I've read more books this year than in any year since I was still deemed a schoolchild, and I have made note of passages that resonate with the me-holding-this-pen, or the me-whom-held-this-pen-three-months-ago, or before.
To feel how I feel now is proof positive this year was the best decision I ever took. I can't say it any better.
I shan't ramble any longer. I'll just say thank you for reading, and will sign-off by borrowing from a writer (Doris Lessing) I encountered on the journey here:
"...growing up is afterall only the understanding that one's unique and incredible experience is what everyone shares."
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