Day 48: Myanmar looms on horizon
At this point, it's hard to know what twisted path the dice will toss me. Photo: Isaac Stone Simonelli
IN PREPARATION for starting into Myanmar tomorrow, I find myself reading Orwell and Kipling instead of sorting out my hotel room.
I'm filled with a vague sense that I don't deserve to for forward, that in some way Dice Travels is a sham. It isn't – or at least I don't think it is – but that's the filling the wells up inside when I think of the rich history of Myanmar, the years of colonial rule and what came before and after. And, my ignorance of it all.
The confidence that I deserve the happiness that I know I'll find no matter where the road leads me is momentarily wavering. Perhaps, I'm just tired or perhaps I need more out of the trip – need to be pushed further outside of my comfort zone. Because, though I am scrambling and have no real plan, I'm not sitting on the edge – where learning and miracles happen. We will see in the morning, when I cross the bridge – there is a bridge, right?
We will see what Myanmar has in store for me, if anything at all. Until then, I can only do what I must. Pack and sleep.