The restlessness is overwhelming. It's akin to the itch of an ivy of the poison type.
After 28 years of life in the law firm setting, working without limits, earning self-worth, I began a solo practice last week, a precipitous decision born of frustration and the depletion of tolerance. The response from friends and colleagues was so very encouraging. Success and reputation were built; a life secure relative to so many others less fortunate.
Why is it so easy for me to be dismissive of it all these days; to discard it to undertake my dream of emigration, of travel with only pennies, my camera, my journal; wading into the unknown to savor every moment?
The courage to embark on the unorthodox is elusive.
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