When the seed of this far-fetched idea first started to take hold, I knew it was something I had to do alone, for one very practical reason, as well as several very emotional reasons. Let’s just do away with the obvious first: I am in a unique position to be able to take these three months to explore and I don’t know of anyone else I’d spend even a weekend with who was in the same position.

That left me with the emotional reasons. Many of the relationships I left behind were up in the air, and I hate “up in the air.” I like clarification. I like to know exactly where I stand, even if the answer isn’t the one I was hoping for. This discomfort with ambiguity has served me well, and caused me great pain. On the one hand, I am not afraid to address situations that may be awkward at first, but infinitely better in the long run once the air is cleared. On the other, I push for answers when there aren’t any, and sometimes that means forcing premature, and hasty, responses. I need to learn patience and I’m hoping that traveling solo will deliver ample opportunities.

Quite honestly, striking out on my own doesn’t present huge hurdles in terms of mechanics. I have traveled around the world, lived alone for the past nine years, shoveled my own damn driveway and generally figured things out. But, sometimes I make mistakes in life, colossal ones, and that’s when going it alone might not be the best course of action.

Yet here I sit. I guess I’m torn between figuring things out for myself, where I alone am judge and jury, and simply asking for help, risking judgment. I don’t have a good answer for this and I suspect I never will. What I miss is just the simple interaction with another person, the shared awe at what we’ve encountered, and maybe someone to take the wheel on occasion. Companionship is important to me and I relish being among friends and am often jealous of the laughter I hear around the campgrounds each night (which also means I’m not completely alone, doesn’t it?).

For now, I’ll continue to look like a crazy person stepping out onto a viewing ledge or vista point shouting to no-one in particular, “Get out! Is that just the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen?!” Perhaps that’s why I got a dog who has no choice but to listen to me.