Destination -- what an overrated concept. It comes in lots of flavors:
But going without -- or admitting it -- is seriously frowned upon. I mean, what do you say to somebody who tells you, they have no goal, aim, purpose, aspiration or ambition in life? You get what I mean.
Now, imagine someone tells you they are sailing south, way off the Baja, with no destination. It's happened more than once -- mostly to us!
That time was no different. Sure, we were determined make it back to Europe and the Mediterranean (that we missed when we were busy fleeing from Russia) -- and right, if you've followed along this far, you know that Elena (ten years later) was still stateless and couldn't go anywhere, and Europe was a no-go-zone for us, but so was Panama. And here's the punch line, we were on our way from the Pacific to the Atlantic via the Panama Canal, which is in -- you guessed it, Panama!
Kind of sounds like we had no destination, right? Going to a country Elena had no right to enter. Counting on the failsafe that we could just keep going south and round the horn. And then, even if we did get into the Atlantic, we sure as hail couldn't have entered Europe. So, what in the frack were we doing?
Okay, I'll give you that -- we had no destination in any sane person's view of the situation.
Before I go on, let's look at the second meaning of destination as defined by many a renowned thesaurus and dictionary of the English language.
Ah hah! Bet you didn't look at it that way. To be fair, neither did we, until we spent so many years denied a destination, we decided to just frack it all, and go on with the journey anyway! Life's all about the journey, and destination is: the journey's end. There's also the question of, where do you go once you reach your destination?
Destination is a limit. In our case, persecution by a notoriously psychopathic, corrupt and hateful government department was imposing serious limits. And why? Because we bloody, fracking let them! So, we said, "On with the journey! On with the Anticruise! On with our lives!" And that, my friends, is how we ended up heading south, down the Baja, with no destination, but a journey, an adventure, an Anticruise.
The point I'm making here, is that be it a society sliding backwards into medieval hatred -- as Russia is in Elena's case, or even your own limiting beliefs and self-doubts, those things impose destinations: as in LIMITS. Look beyond the destination. Shrug off the limits, take back your life, and you're an Anticruiser now!