It troubles me when I learn of the travels of friends and family, or overhear a conversation in a coffee
shop about the wonder and frustrations of a latest trip to Timbuktu or the Arctic Circle or some other far flung and exciting place.
What troubles me is that I have no desire to travel ~ at least today, and maybe tomorrow but that can always change.
If there were the teleportation of
Star Trek fame, I may consider it;
but that is far in the future and
probably not in what remains of
my lifetime ~ which still has a
couple of decades to go. However,
technology, racing along like an
uncontrolled teenager, may bring
to life that fantasy. But by then, my
already old bones will be a lot older
and wouldn’t necessarily handle
the molecular pin ball that
teleportation seems to require.
Regardless, I am content to enjoy
my home without looking for the
history of the world or taking photographs
of buildings that lose their grandeur in
a digital album. And of course, I will
not miss the noisy bump and shuffle
of airports and their waiting areas.
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking
new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”
~ Marcel Proust
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