Who Am I?

As my adventures draw to a close, the same ever present question remains at the forefront of my mind: Have I accomplished what I'd set out to do? For the first time since I began, I flipped back to the begginning pages of this Epic Journey, and read the opening chapter, "What To Look For." What have I found? In these 3 months, what have I discovered which I can take back with me to California? The question of who I am still alludes me. I'm not sure I'm all that much closer to discovering it now, than I was when I left. I have, however answered a lot of questions about what I believe, and what kind of person I mean to be.

I wanted to be someone who could live up to a challege. I wanted to be honest with myself about even the deepest and toughest issues weighing on my soul. I wanted to be one who sees good in all people, and to be shown that love does tangably exsist. I wanted to gain firsthand knowledge of places I'd otherwise not have seen. I wanted to make an impact on people, and leave my footprints in the sand. I wanted to choose to climb, knowing the cost, and suffer my own mistakes. If I can look back and say I've accomplished these tasks. If I can say of myself that I didn't take the easy way out. If I can see that I held myself together when all hope seemed lost, then I can hold myself high with honor and look at myself in the mirror at last. I'm proud of a lot of things I've done during these 3 months. Though I screwed up several times, I was never looking to pack up and go home. 3 months does not seem long enough to find one's self. If I'd had a choice I would have stayed longer. In the midst of this journey, I've discovered a new passion. In fighting to survive out here on my own, I forgot about the cares and worries of my former life, and all the drama which seemed to saturate it. For a time out here in the chaos of the world, I had goals again. There was purpose pushing me forward, and a need to stay alive. I felt companionship with God, and he seemed to follow me, watching over me as I walked. It's a feeling I can't describe exept to say, It all just felt right, as if God had laid the path for me to walk before I'd even gotten there. He held my hand, and I heard his voice in my head. Though even now, the voice is draining out like water. I fear it will be gone soon, but I know he's still there because I can still feel that presence.

I'm not as I was when I left, but I'm not quite as different as I sometimes think I should be, so who am I? What am I?

I'm a son; I'm a brother; I'm a friend and cousin; I'm a nephew and grandson; I'm a human; I'm a heart patient; I'm a musician and traveler; I'm a writer and singer; I'm an actor and director; I'm a sound engineer; I'm a poet; I'm an amature photographer; I'm a student and philosopher; I'm a Christian; I'm a critic; I'm a man. I drank Guiness in Dublin, and bought a fiddle in Belfast. I've climbed a castle in Scotland, and crossed the London Bridge. I've stood on the Pyramids of Egypt, and desecrated the tomb of a pharoh. I've ridden a Camel through the desert. I've been lost in the Sahara. I've stayed in the home of a Jordanian muslim, and in the morning was served breakfast by his children. I wept at the feet of Jesus on the hill of Golgotha. I sat in prayer in his tomb on Easter Sunday, and left my blood, sweat and tears in the sand. I met a christian family in Bethlehem, and knelt before the manger at the Nativity. I've witness the aftermath of revolution in Cyprus, and the first stages of peace in Nicosia. I felt the stones of the Greecian collumns on the Acropolis. I talked politics with a sailor in Aegina, and shared a round of beers with his comrads. I've had pizza in Naples, and walked the streets of Pompei in the rain. I've climbed the steps of the Colosseum, and smelled the paint of the Sistine Chapel. I spent a full day in solitude within the forests of Tuscany. I've seen the full moon rise from a canal in Venice. I've slept in the same room next to a sweet old, half crazed Croatian lady, and avoided her poisonous cooking. I've been drunk in Budapest. I've walked through the gardens of Vienna. I've been clubbing in Prague. I've hiked up the hills of Salzburg. I've felt the cold of the Swiss snow, and stared in awe at the majestic Matterhorn. I've been wine tasting in Alsace, and explored the WWI trenches. I sat on a beach in the French Riviera. I got mugged after a party in Barcelona. I've seen famous works of art in Madrid, and warded off cougars in Portugal. I've scaled the wall of a Spanish fort in San Sebastian, and shared a kiss in Paris. I've hung out with Bohemians, and stormed the beaches of Normandy. I've seen the redlight district in Amsterdam, and stood on the site of the Berlin Wall. I kept on walking when my legs couldn't carry me, and if I make it home, I'll have witnessed a miracle.

I believe Aaron was right when he told me this was only a scouting trip; that I'd be back soon with more purpose and more questions that need answers. Inside my heart still thirsts, more than ever, for the adventures to come. I've shared my heart as openly as I could these 3 months, and recorded my thoughts within these pages. My hope is that you read it, and know me as I grow. I intended to leave no stone unturned, and lay my whole life out there for all to see. Only through openly and honestly expressing who I really am, can I hope to fix what is broken and find what is lost.

In begginning this journey, I was running away from several things I didn't feel ready to deal with in my life. I felt like I was drowning in monotony, and everyone was slowly passing me by. The shrill laughter of the happiness I felt I could never achieve, echoed in my ears at night. I wanted to be someone else entirely. I was afraid of who I was becomming. But, "Those who fly from their fear often find that they only take a shortcut to meet it"-JRR Tolkien. I met my fear in my solitude and hardships, as I carried my problems with me on my journey. They weighed on my back like a hundred traveler's packs, and I struggled so hard to leave them in the dust of my Epic Quest. However, so many of them had already burrowed themselves into my skin. I pulled at them, and dug them out of my eyes, leaving wounds that were nurtured by the love of strangers. I still carry wounds, but my outlook has changed, and there's hope that they may not be as deep as they were before. I've learned that wisdom can only come from failure, and that love is far more prominent in this world than hate. Good people are not outnumbered, but they often feel like their alone. There's a reason for lonliness, it brings us together, and that's the way we were meant to live. For 3 months, I sat as a spectator of life and watched the world turn. What I saw has filled my eyes with hope, and my heart with wonder. The lessons I've learned will stand firm in my memory for all the rest of my days.

I've seen so many things. My senses have not left me wanting. No person will ever seen what my eyes have seen, nor feel what my hands have touched. No one will hear the sounds my ears have heard or taste what my tougue has tasted. Even those who have stood where I've stood, and walked where I've walked, will never have seen what I saw. This experience of life has been mine alone, and that fills me with the truest sense of pride and joy.

Although this experience has been one which I will always remember, I do very much miss those whom I left back home. In the end it was my friends and family who showed me who I really am. You all encouraged me, lifted me up when I felt tired and weary, and pointed out the way onward. My communication with you through comments and emails was fresh air and water to my soul. I often wonder when I get back, if you'll see something different in me. I've looked for it many times myself, but I remember back to that night in Jerusalem, sitting out on the balcony looking up at the stars. Eric was sitting on the next balcony to my left. I asked him if he thought he'd changed during his travels, and he told me, "You'll never know how you've changed until you see it in the faces of the people you love. Change isn't something you can see in yourself, but others will see it in you." There's a quote from that movie I watched with Andrea in Cyprus, "A Touch Of Spice." It stuck out to me immediately, but I wasn't really sure what it meant until just recently. "There are two types of travelers in this world: those who look at a map, and those who look at a mirror. The ones who look at a map are leaving; and the ones who look at a mirror are coming home." As I stand here staring at my face in the mirror, for the first time, I'm proud of the man looking back. I see in his eyes a journey, which brought him closer to the man that he desires to be. I look in the mirror, and I see in my face a man who is finally ready to come home.