I’ve been feeling events before they happen; going through the full spectrum of emotions before I arrive in the event itself. This is nothing new.

I remember a related conversation with a friend of mine a few years ago. We had been analyzing why we always start things and never finish them. At the time, we justified our habit with the observation that we could both see the end result of the effort, acknowledging that we could easily achieve it, and had accepted this as being as good as having the full experience. We realized we could do it, so we didn’t need to do it. At that time, it was more about challenge-seeking.

Reflecting on the conversation, maybe it was a lack of foresight and knowing what we wanted. Today, I feel different, but realized I’m still doing the same thing. With just a thought of an upcoming experience, in this case, seeing my parents after 9 months, achieving the goal of traveling continuously for 9 months, and making the triumphant return home, I dropped into the positive emotions the experience would inevitably provoke.

On the plane from Dhaka to Rome a few weeks ago, I thought of the reunion with my parents. Tears of joy gathered in my lower lids. I felt excited to have a chance to do things differently. When I saw my parents, everything felt neutral and normal. The emotions had been processed. I’d already had the experience on the plane from Dhaka. If nothing else, I could see how powerful my mind was in creating my perceived reality, once again.

Weeks ago, back in Australia, as I walked the Cape to Cape track, sweating, weighed down by my pack and leg aching, I realized that I was going to achieve my goal of traveling continuously for 9 months. I felt immensely proud. I cried because I was so happy, not only that I accomplished the goal, but that I felt something positive for myself about it, instead of shame for having tried something others didn’t believe in.

This morning, as I went through security, I felt mostly nothing. It was too easy, as it has been for months. No lines, ample time, relaxed pace. I even got to get an hour walk in. As I looped around the food court, lamenting slightly at the fact that in the Rome airport all of the shop names and advertisements were printed in English, it started to change slightly.

I got closer. Train to the gate. I sat in the same black, all connected rows of seats that you’d find at any American airport. And, as I started to write, I started to sink. I realized how much I was judging the people around me. Americans returning from vacation. I didn’t feel the judgment, I just noticed that I was becoming sad because of how I was perceiving people.

Someone important said to me lately that I tend to view myself as unique and because of that, I don’t fit in. I sat on the roof of the apartment building in Rome, cold air currents swirling around me as I listened. She was right. That was exactly what I thought. It wasn’t even a sneaky thought. I liked being different. In the past, it had been a sport. Now, I don’t care, but the shadows of the former “I am” trait still stuck to me like gum flattened into the crevices of the sole of a shoe. To counter this, I had been telling myself lately, “I am unique, myself, and I also belong.” It felt like it was working.

I’m getting sadder by the minute, however, I can see what is happening. I had lived the end result. Several weeks prior, I had experienced the simulated triumph, but I had skipped the grief. I had lived the event before it happened, but at the place I am in, energetically I haven’t moved far enough where grief doesn’t exist; where sadness, guilt, fear, anger don’t exist. In contrast to the past, where I would get stuck in sadness, now, I’m running through the entire spectrum of emotions, in exact order of vibrational frequency from low to high whenever something significant happens. Sometimes, it isn’t an event that warrants a great reaction, but I can still feel the micro-escalation through clearly defined steps. It is completely text book. I think this is one of my gifts. Modern science isn’t taking advantage of me enough.

I realize that right now I’m feeling sad, alienated and stressed slightly, but I know that, according to the magnitude of the event of returning home after 9 months of flying solo without obligation that my system perceives it to be, I will move through each step of the emotional spectrum all the way back to excitement and enthusiasm.

My throat is aching. I wanted to cry and I held it back some. I think I wanted to sob. Maybe I’ll graduate to Public Crying Level 4 soon, but I can have patience with this.

It is strange to sit here without expectations of how I would feel, and think about how usually people have expectations of how they will feel when something big happens in their life. My good friends have only assumed that I would have many emotions right now, but not suggested which ones. This is open. The flight is boarding, and I feel sad. Maybe by the time I hit Philadelphia, I’ll feel peace. But first, I think I need to hit 4 PCL.