One of the best things about living in Notting Hill is the fact that on any given Sunday morning, I can walk ten minutes down the road and enter the treasure trove called The Travel Bookshop. This is the same Travel Bookshop that is featured in Notting Hill, the movie. It’s the type of place that I have to approach with caution. It creates a strange pain in my heart because every time I enter, a sick feeling of wanderlust enters me and for a few days afterwards, I am dizzy with longing. It’s a form of self inflicted masochism.
I woke up today knowing that I would make the trek to this little shop. And I knew that it would do my head in – to read the “Best places to go before you die” type of picture books, to soak up all the amazing photography books, to wander the shelves as if wandering the world. It all made me want to drop everything and wander the globe. The store is sectioned off into continents and countries. For an hour and a half I wandered Asia and Africa and South America. I read bits of Pablo Neruda’s Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair in both Spanish and English. I browsed Lonely Planet’s Festivals guide and vowed to myself that this year, we are going to attend La Tomatina in Valencia Spain. I touched African hiking maps and Japanese phrase books and War Photography compilations. And it took every bit of self control to not purchase 100 pounds worth of these things to take home with me.
As always, I left feeling breathless – antsy for more travel, inspired to plan another great adventure, caged for being here and not there (somewhere, everywhere). Psychologists have said that sometimes, success can be limiting. It provides us with a sense of stability and accomplishment but prevents us from taking big risks. It makes us afraid to fail. And many times, I’ve wondered how true this is for my own life. As thankful and blessed as I am in the wonderful amazing journey that I am living, I have always known that there is something bigger, different, more life changing than this. I just know within myself that I am meant to be doing something different. And lately, I haven’t been able to shake the very strong feeling of wanting to discover what that calling really is. My best friends say that I’m the type of person who sees the possibilities, always the possibilities. These days, a giant cliff of the black unknown has been staring me straight in the face, teasing me with the possibilities, egging me to take that leap of faith where reason and passion collide to bring about real change.
It takes a leap of faith to become great.
