The 4th of July is a special holiday to me. I’ve written about it before, about our neighborhood block party growing up, the reading of the Declaration, the fireworks that inevitably set fire to Sentinel Peak every year in Tucson (sometimes we learn a bit slowly in AZ).
I’ve spent the Fourth at home. I’ve spent it abroad. I’ve spent it with family, with friends, with new friends, with strangers. Today, I’ll be spending it en route to Athens, Greece, so I’ll be able to say I’ve celebrated our Independence Day on the ground and in the air.
This time, too, it means something different. Independence today means independence that I’ve chosen. My big leap, the one that I’ve been preparing for for months, this decision that I made on a warm day in the Tucson spring, it’s actually happening. I’m not just abstractly talking about my flights, or my packing list, or my travel gadgets. I’m concretely talking about my flights (1 down, 2 to go for this leg), my packing list (made it with my Osprey Meridian carry-on), and my travel gadgets (Chico bag that folds into itself! Kindle! Mini flashlight! And all the cool stuff I’ll get to borrow from Boris!).
My own independence day is today. Time to rip it up like Jimi Hendrix did.
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