J is for journey.

You are a traveler, a nomad, just like me. This is probably the only thing we have in common, as different as we are in both personality and temperament. You are quick to react, reckless, driven by anger and greed; I am overly analytical, calculating, dispassionate and cold. But we share the urge to roam, to push, to move, and I can only imagine the feelings of inadequacy that must overwhelm you as you try to live up to expectations, to fit neatly into the box carried from the last generation. You’ve never in your life struck out more than a two-hour drive away, frustrated by the strangler fig’s grasp. But this is what I’ve learned, this secret I share with you: the box in which you try to live is not sacred. Make your own box, or better yet, live outside one.