Musings as my time in Portugal approaches an end

I’d be OK to stay here in Portugal forever, or so I think. Or at least a little longer. I choose what’s right: being an adult, doing adult things. But maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t have to be the way it is. Maybe, just maybe, it can be a different.

I had a dream the other night, one of those dreams that happen in the foggy moments between sleep and awake. In it, I remember thinking, “Why do I have to go home?” I am not a rich woman but I am comfortable. I could travel. I have no commitments as far as a partner or children. I can sell my house or rent it out. I have no strong employment ties. If I want to travel, why am I not travelling? If this is a lifestyle and not a luxury, why am I not living it? 

When the haze cleared, I was still very much conscious of my dreamy thoughts. The rational side of me kicked in. I need to go home because, while staying in Portugal in this amazing home with these amazing people is highly enticing, if I want to change my lifestyle, I need to set myself up for success.

I have cranky knees that need replacing so I can do the walks, treks and hikes to see what I want to see. I need to research where I want go, how long I want to be gone, transportation, times — all of it. I need to set up my money in way that allows me access to it while I’m gone and pays the bills automatically for me. I need to time my journeys around tax season and find out how long out-of-country insurance will cover me. 

I need to make arrangements for my home to be taken care of, or sold. 

None of this insurmountable but things that require proper planning when you have stuff. This decision would’ve been easier had I decided to backpack as a young adult.

I can find many reasons and excuses why this plan isn’t practical, why I shouldn’t set out and have solo adventures. I can explain away the opportunities that await me if only I decide to take a chance, put some effort in, shake up my world. There are many reasons to say no.

There are just as many reasons to say yes. As I wind down my last few days here, part of me is looking forward to going home and seeing if what I’m hoping to do can actually be done. Build a timeline. Maybe 60 isn’t the time when I slow down but when I start something new. 

Maybe this trip is the start of something bigger, discovering and claiming this part of me.