Made in Japan, Outsourced Globally

That's how I feel right now. Stretched out. Loosened up.

In a good sense though, of course.

Allotting time for travel for 1 and 1/2 months initially made me slightly nervous. Is it too short that I won't see anything? Is it too long that I will turn into a travel junkie and have no fuel left to start on my next phase of life?

But the uneasiness and the worries faded quickly, as the time I spent for the last 1 month have been premium quality. Filling. Supreme. Experience-rich.

Sure, I'm only on the spending side and not generating income. I'm not really doing anything virtuous of any sort or making quantum leaps for the progress of humanity (not that I was doing so to begin with).

But I'm learning so much more - About myself. About different people's lives. About the culture of different countries. People have amazing tales to tell, like my ex-colleague Zul. He is now working for a Malaysian construction company that is going to build housing complexes and hostels in Ghana, Tanzania, and Angola. The two Israeli guys, Aviv and Boaz, are probably still backpacking through Cambodia and Laos, contemplating which Asian country to hop over to next. I met a plethora of European women who come to Vietnam to volunteer at orphanages while they travel through the country. Mr. Phan, whom I became very good friends with in Hanoi, opens his photo shop every morning, but he has a colorful background of being a math teacher and an Asian cuisine restaurant owner in East Germany. I met a blonde Caucasian Zimbabwean pharmacist who now lives in the UK because life became trying for a white woman living in Zimbabwe.

I watch the clouds moving in the sky. I close my eyes, and I can walk the steps to my living room in California. I can see it. I can imagine it. I gladly welcome the time gliding like the clouds.

But I won't let it pass by without consequences. My greed and ego take over, and I have to see everything. Ever since India, my outlook changed on the passage of time. Enjoy the moment - but learn to let go.

You cannot step into the same river twice.

I have never been good with goodbyes, so the farewells are anti-climactic. "Yeah, see you later."

Later, when? The word has no anchor, and it floats away like a soap bubble. How many people we say "See you later" to do we actually meet again? I have no clue. So might as well enjoy the most of it while you are with them.

Oh. I'm still feeling quite elastic. Maybe even jellyfish-like.