It’s been 129 days since I left Utah.

And 122 days since I flew out of the U.S.

When I was planning this trip, the length of a year, its imposing magnitude, was difficult to grasp.

An entire year?!

Visiting places, meeting people, and then leaving again and again?

Not that it didn’t sound exciting; it just sounded like an enormous amount of time.

And honestly, it is.

A small percentage of the world’s population has traveled for 6 months congruently, much less a year.

Yet, as I’ve reflected on 129 days of traveling, a year almost seems cruel in its brevity.

Like a short breath of air that has you headed back to the surface before you can take in the ocean’s beauty.

So too, the longer I stay in a place, the harder it becomes to leave the people and the untouched adventures.

Despite the tension, it is good pain.