I am the risk-taker. I am the free-spirit. I am the go-getter. I embody the essence of can.

Yet, right now, I don’t feel I’m living up to these personas I’ve developed for myself, these traits that I claim. I’m feeling bound, trapped, limited.

After spending eight months in Central America, I came back to a weakened American economy. The endeavor to find any real stable work has, thus far, been fruitless. In my frustration, I’ve begun to open myself to terms I know I don’t want. Letting the economy force my hand so to speak. Strike one. I should not be settling for anything less than what I desire from life. I should not be selling myself short. Up until today, I was near ready to.

With little resources, I’ve succumbed myself to waiting. Strike two. To wait is against everything I believe in. Of course, I’ve been actively pursuing leads for work, sending out applications and portfolios – in every which direction it feels like. But, as of yet, nothing solid has materialized. So… I wait? Ack! No!

To forge on would mean more risk than ever since I have no disposable income right now and certain bills to pay. But I’m the risk-taker am I not? Is this not one of my featured quotes on Facebook?

“Stay hungry. Stay foolish.” -Steve Jobs

Do I not completely identify with action?

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” -Mark Twain

Do the signatures of my emails not spell it out? “We live our lives as a tale that is told.” -King David

How is waiting staying hungry and foolish. It’s not. How is waiting exploring. It’s not. How is waiting living my very own tale – my fairy tale. It’s… not.

Cafe del Mar sings it now on my iTunes: “I’m sitting here. Feeling sad. What happened to all the laughs we had. I’m trying to turn back the time.”

No more! Would these men quoted above let a little financial issue stop them? Ha! Do I not have faith in the unknown opportunities that lie just around the next bend? I shall never reach them if I sit here, on the bank, and wait. So I tip my hat to you Sir Twain as I throw off the bowlines and leave this safe harbor. The howl of the trade winds are calling to me… tauntingly whispering my name. In their wake I catch the familiar lavender and more – exotic scents that I have yet to discover.

Thank God for the power of the written word. The quills, pens and keyboards of the superior writers comprise the backbone of my motivation in life. Whenever I’m floundering most, falling short of living out my own beliefs even, it is invariably the masters of prose who set me straight and invigorate me with the unflinching will to march on.

Not only march on… but give. Aiding those in need is not a new concept for me, or for this blog. On June 27, 2008 I announced in a blog post that I would not only donate $365 – $1 for each day of the year – but also use the blog to raise further donations for a deserving cause I found through my travels. I am proud to know I achieved that goal. But, as my disposable income has dwindled I can’t give the cash right now. What I can give though, is time.

I’ve already contacted Heart to Heart here in Kansas City. I plan on helping out at least once before I set off. But mark my words… I am taking off… in active pursuit of the opportunities that lie ahead.

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Alarmin Bob – a friend from the local Couchsurfing scene – took me to lunch at a wonderful little local gem I knew nothing about. Andre’s Confiserie Suisse is a gourmet chocolatier and dessert shop that also features a limited daily lunch menu. Its an eclectic shop that uses unpronounceable cheeses and special sauces crafted in house. I was thrilled. I’ll be taking my step-mom there.

It turns out Bob is just full of surprises. A true man of many hats: from owning a business that installed car alarms for dealerships to selling wooden washers boxes online to owning a personal embroidery machine to working for the military to customizing scooters… and more. He has lots of interesting stories and experiences to share. A happy fellow with a good, full yet light laugh. Super easy-going and fun to be around. Will definitely break it down on the dance floor. He wins major points for that. Becoming a good friend… I’m very glad to know him.

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My step-mom arrived today, back from her winter escape to Florida. She’s been a true blessing in my life. Her unwavering support strengthens my resolve when I’m feeling defeat. Her open ear makes me feel free to share without judgment.

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I look up… and see the moon. Tonight but a little sliver of her breaks the black sky. A rare night where the sliver appears to be an upright cup. You can just make out the rest of her silhouette. The beauty of her many faces never cease to captivate me.

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Green jobs are the cornerstone of our economy… says the radio.

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The dog (Buksi) loudly barks in the closed car – excited to see his momma. My dad jumps… then laughs. I sourly rub my ear. In this moment, my dad wins. Life is humorous. A secret I know, but -as this example shows – the practice of which I have not yet completely mastered.

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A long talk with Fer on Skype tonight. Who is Fer? Bueno. Who is he? Could he be the reason life led me back to KC… when I never wanted to leave Guatemala? Who can know?

I met Fer a few weeks ago. I had invited my friend Lindsey to a night of salsa dancing I had caught wind of here in KC. My first dance was with a nice Latino, who works in KC as a local architect. A gentleman. Pleasant. Next, a familiar face from a salsa class I had accompanied a friend to earlier in the week. An African American with a soft smile and such a gentle manner about him. Admittedly, something drew me to him – though in a most platonic way. I enjoyed dancing with him and talking with him. Again, I really sensed he was a gentle spirit. A good person to know.

While I was dancing with the above mentioned partners, my friend Lindsey was invited to dance by Karlos. Though she’s new to salsa, he was patient with her, showing her the steps. When Lindsey and I went back to our table, Karlos joined us. He was obviously of Latino decent, so, eager for the opportunity to use my Spanish, I asked him where he was from. ¿Hablas español? He asked me with surprise. In Spanish, I explained that I had just returned from spending 8 months in Central America and that the visit had been my third time in the region and that I had also traveled to Spain… hence, the Spanish. His eyes quickly brightened and he turned to call over his younger brother, Fernando. It turns out Fer was in town visiting his brother for little more than a week. But, he couldn’t speak much English. (Truth is, he speaks more than he lets on. But he’s not too comfortable using it.) Thus, Karlos was excited about the rare opportunity for his younger brother to comfortably speak to a gringa, a local – more or less. Ha!

I always know from the first moment my eyes meet his. Is there that special kind of connection… or not? With Fernando, it was there. No question. Honestly, I was surprised. Four months had passed in Guatemala before I found someone like that. That someone – El Principito – defined much of the remaining part of my stay in Guate (3 1/2 months). From the beginning El Principito and I knew the connection between us was strong and powerful. But, it was also something that couldn’t really be fulfilled… for various reasons. Timing. Poignant differences in certain life philosophies. Yet, we enjoyed what we could while we could. I’m still not quite past him. I think of him often. My feelings for him run deep. We’re still in casual contact… as very good friends. He opened me to new experiences in life, new ways of thinking. He showed me much. And offered me much. For that, I’m very grateful. And, on his part, that was very smart. He has left some very lasting marks on my experiences… and on my heart. He has ensured that a part of me will always remember him. Always love him. So, that’s why I was surprised about Fernando. I thought things were still too fresh, too raw.

Yet, Fer’s eyes met mine… and I knew. We connected. He asked me to dance and as the night progressed we relaxed into a natural synchronicity. The energy between us was very strong. I love those moments: where a simple smile, a simple dance can be more overwhelming than anything more. The night wound down. Both Karlos and Fer proved to be complete gentleman, walking Lindsey and I to our car then respectfully saying goodnight. I gave Karlos my number so that we might all stay in touch.

Fer came out with me and my friends the next night. First he joined Lindsey and I for First Fridays – a monthly art exposition in various galleries in KC. That’s when I first started learning more about Fer. He’s a licensed nurse with two more years of study until he becomes a licensed surgeon. His father is not only a surgeon, but a specialist in three different fields of medicine. His mother holds a secretary position for the Mexican government. Fer began explaining how the department in which he lives in Mexico is a very dangerous one. Influenced by the mafia and related violence. Harsh realities. Medicine is his way of fighting back. He cares for the wounded, the victims.

Finally, we meet three other friends at a club. I found out that not only could Fer master salsa, but he could also break it down in the club. He kept steady pace with me on the dance floor. Big bonus points. A simple sweet kiss. Our first. Everything was on him, including the not cheap by any standards taxi ride home. Okay. So he knows the proper way to treat a woman.

The next night, his last night, his brother let us take his car. Fer was chivalrous in every way, opening doors, everything on him. He’s 24 – the same age as me. But, quite mature. He embodies an air of easy confidence. He explains he works from 7:00 am to 9:00 even 10:00 pm Monday through Friday. First, he attends patients at a government hospital. Then at 4:00 pm he begins working at a private clinic. Wow. A very tough schedule. Admirable profession. Admirable dedication. But, too involved?

We went back to the house to watch movies. The movie was in… but we just talked. Learning more about each other was more interesting than any film.

We’ve stayed in touch. First, he called me cell to cell from Mexico. I told him about Skype though and now we’re set up for staying connected for free. We talk nights because of his intensive schedule.

Tonight, even though he was clearly drained from work – he says some plastic surgeons from Michigan are visiting and he helped with 9 surgeries back to back today – we talked for more than two hours. The interest is there. We both want to learn more about each other. He’s thinking of coming back to visit in March. I’ll probably be on the move before then though. And that’s the question. Can my lifestyle, my passion for travel, make any room for us to explore this connection? Or, has it ended before it every really began?

I know it and others know it. I’m still very much a drifter. The longest I’ve stayed in one place in four years are my 7 months in Guatemala. I feel the deepest roots I have in my life are there. And, how deep is that really? Provided work, I know I could go back there and be happy. But, my longing to travel to new places won’t go away. The point will come where I can wait no longer to explore the undiscovered. Fer’s town could be a start. But, I am clear… I am a nomad. Can something come from a life like his – one which I deeply admire – and a life like mine? I don’t know. But, given the opportunity, I am willing to find out… with all cards on the table from the first bet.