The distance to here is short.
As I got older, I started realizing how true that is. All that running around I did as a kid, all the wandering I did in my twenties, all the detours, all the screw-ups, all the victories, every curve in the road eventually dropped me right back at my front door.
The whole map of your life folds tighter and tighter until you can see that the thing you were trying to reach was never that far away.
That is the part nobody tells you when you are young. They say chase the whale, chase the dream, chase the thing on the horizon.
Ishmael didn’t understand what the hell he was chasing until it had already swallowed half the ship. He opens Moby Dick with “Call me Ishmael,” and the rest of the story is just one long reminder that some quests take you halfway around the world just to show you the truth you already knew. The distance, in the end, is always shorter than the journey you imagined.
... And the distance to here, this exact spot, turned out to be pretty damn short after all.
It is Friday and it is going to be gorgeous in Chicagoland. Gusto with friends, astonishment with the world, flavor in the crock pot and love between the sheets.... book it Danno!
