Haply the seas, and countries different, With variable objects, shall expel This something settled matter in his heart, Whereon his brains till beating puts him thus From fashion of himself.

This often works for me! Traveling abroad seems to swiftly bring blurry things into focus. The adjustment that it takes to simply buy a stamp in a foreign land works wonders for the whole self. Everything boils down to its essence. How do I ask for what I need? How do I communicate what I want? There’s no time to worry about my existential angst when the whole world has shifted around me.

Add to that the seas?
The sea, the sea, the movement of the sea, the blue, or green of it, the lulling magic of it, the calm of the horizon of it where blue meets blue.

I could sit by the sea for weeks, I think, and work through every problem I ever had. The magic is trebled by the possibility of swimming in that sea or wading in it.

When I travel abroad to a place by the sea, I can’t even remember what it felt like to want to throw in the towel. It is all so simple by the sea in a country where you do not speak the language.

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