AMBIENT THOUGHT – EPISODE Two Hundred Fifteen: My Thoughts Like To Travel

The following and all of the other episodes are snapshots of what goes on in my head, now and in the past. There are times none of this will make sense. There will be times when I might get lucky, and the blog I post will be well constructed and will flow like a mountain stream to an awaiting lake below. Other times it will seem like the ramblings of a madman, and you’ll ask yourself, “What the……?”
You should probably get used to the latter.


“You get ideas from daydreaming. You get ideas from being bored. You get ideas all the time. The only difference between writers and other people is we notice when we’re doing it.”

-Neil Gaiman

Getting away is difficult. isn’t it?
Taking your family or just yourself somewhere else can be expensive and/or too time-consuming when money is tight. The wallet and the clock can hold you back.

It may be years before we can lock the doors of our house or apartment and get in our vehicles or on a plane or bus and go to some far-off destination.

It’s in our blood to travel.
It’s in our DNA to simply GO.

If we think back to when we were children, odds are you had trouble sitting still.
You wanted to be on your way.
Maybe it was to explore woods near your neighborhood or to jump on your bike or skateboard and ride around your neighborhood. I bet as time ticked by, you push your boundary limits further and further from home, forging a new trail in those woods or taking another road on your bike. And doing so, you disobeyed your parent’s set boundary of how far you could go.

I can say with all honesty, this was me.

I would take a deep breath and risk going down the street well past where my neighborhood ended and another began. Then I would travel passed that one into another. One time, I found myself in the town square, a place that I had only been to in my dad’s truck or my mother’s car. I had gone all by myself. And without my parents finding out. I don’t think I was even a teenager.

We’re born to push boundaries.

But…these aren’t the travels I want to talk about.

The external travels are wonderful and can be fulfilling. The traveling I love the most is the internal ones.

My mind and imagination was my best friend. I was safe there and I could go anywhere, or as far as I dared.
I’ve written about passing afternoons away in a tree or on the bottom bunk of my bed. I even found myself in a blanket fort I made in the den or a snow fort on a grey, snowy winter’s day. I daydreamed a lot. Most of what I thought about was good. I thought about going on adventures with my heroes or kissing some girl I had a crush on. The fantasy girls were plenty coming from movies, T.V., or, yes, real life.
Hours would go by before reality would finally set in and I quietly go about my way.

I miss those days.

As I have gotten older, those moments are few and fleeting. Adult responsibilities and stress can overwhelm my mind and keep reality at the forefront.
For those that know me, I bet that sounds odd. I’m a writer of fiction and it’s those internal worlds I use to draw from when I put pen to paper or click away at the computer. Those places have treated me well and have fed me lots of ideas.
But to really get my creative impulses to charge and spark, I need that blank white sheet of paper or computer screen. The blank space I had in my mind to create my mind movies has become a bit worn, torn, and yellowed.

I’m not sure why it’s harder to just imagine as I sit quietly or as I lay in bed before going to sleep. I guess it’s that part of my adulthood that keeps thinking about bills, family obligations, work obligations, and/or something I did wrong and hoping I can fix tomorrow.

Yeah, I miss those days of sitting high in my favorite tree and feeling the breeze sway me into a semi-doze and I could imagine whatever I wanted to.

Maybe that’s the power of a child’s mind.

Trust me, I’m still holding on to it, tooth and nail.
For as long as I can.

-Loyd Elmore Jr
May 27th, 2022

I’ve decided to keep a blog about how I’m dealing with depression. I’m going to consider this a form of therapy. It might not help anybody else, but it might help me.

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