We’re all tourists. Going anywhere for pleasure makes us so. Step back and see we’re all transitory- few of us live where our ancestors began. Take that back far enough and all of us came from the same place. Literally. Or metaphorically. We are transitory beyond existence itself. We are visitors in these bodies. And, hopefully, we visit new spaces for the joy of it both within and without. May we all be tourists, becoming mindful navigators of the unknown…

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