On The Eve Of

And today, the end of yet another countdown; one we have, for the most part, clutched closely and quietly until the moment was to arrive. Tomorrow, we'll rise before dawn and steal out into the darkness toward an eight day sabbatical in Montreal, Quebec.

At a difficult point last summer, we decided to set this time aside for ourselves, instead of visiting family and friends, instead of doing nothing at all. To press pause, to jam a stick in the wheel, to turn off the lights, close up shop and leave it all behind for one precious week.

Over the years, our time away has been like a balm for fresh wounds, a warm bath and clean pajamas after a rotten day, a deep, dreamless sleep after a good cry. Time away, whether long or short, has given Gus and me the chance to exist outside of the present and to be in control of our days. To reconnect and renew, and to strengthen ourselves and one another for the next leg of the journey.

I can't promise what these pages will look like over the next week. I don't know how far away I need to be or how much I need to leave behind.

"To get away from one's working environment is, in a sense, to get away from one's self; and this is often the chief advantage of travel and change." --Charles Horton Cooley