Call it walking meditation or a neighborhood stroll; by whatever namesuits you, rediscover the art of meandering.

Embrace those parts of yourself that you've skillfully avoided until now. That's your true adventure.

Rest and repose are as much a part of life’s journeys as seeing all we came to see.

Life lessons are not journeys traveled in straight lines but are crossroadsformed years and miles apart.

Once back home I would adjust my lens to the resolution through which I perceived the people and provinces of the globe. My daily commute, the supermarket check out line, neighborhood walks, pedestrian tasks of any job would inspire me as much as the stir of white linen canopies in Venice’s Piazza San Marco; the velvety dunes of the eastern Sahara; Bali’s kaleidoscope of color; my Vietnamese sisters.

Ten years ago I wondered, “How does one travel around the world? How does one step out of a well-established life to follow the dream?” I’ve answered those questions. But now new ones emerge.

No matter. I was single, no children, a handful of plants and at 39, young enough to regroup. If I hit ground before I finished building my wings, I would not take anyone with me.

I knew I could always earn money from a job. What I didn’t know was could I extend the dream of writing beyond my trip?

Putting the dream in motion involved significant personal downsizing, moving three times to trim housing expenses and continuing to freelance. I sold one piece to The New York Times Magazine, many more to The Courant, and another to The St. Petersburg Times.