I never really know exactly what to write anymore. Today, a very good friend called me nomadic. Sure. I'll go with that. But today I started thinking about that word a bit more, and how it has come to define me in a way. I'm not nomadic in the sense that I wonder around the world following my food sources or the seasons, but in some ways, I am nomadic to where chance and my thoughts take me. It is the look in someones eye at the shop that reminds me of a place I love in Sydney, or maybe it is a smell here in the hot of summer that makes me think of Mozambique. Or maybe it is that I consume everything there is to see, read, watch and listen to about adventure. About taking a chance and a risk about being somewhere else other than where you at. There is the saying of "be where your at", but in my book it has become, go where your not. A mountain? Or perhaps a city sitting in the middle of it and having coffee with new and old friends. Its not about taking a chance for me -- because I know I will like it. It is making choices that I fear, that I hate doing for fear of seeing something better I could have chosen. My new excitment in life is to make choices and just course correct along the way.

Am I not comfortable where I am? Or is change just a force of the world that drives me? This mountain feels lonely.

I think in my past life I might have been an antelope. Yes, laugh, but I have an affinity for trees, as well as open savannah or field. And i've been known to jump and leap at times during a frisbee game. I suppose that means I have moved up in this circular life struggle -- sometime I think the antelope of my past had it better. He had less choice and more freedom.

Someone wise told me that I will be fine. That, as time goes on, more and more people will find that mountain, and make it to the top.