Developing a new syllabus for traveling

As Mary and I are catching our breath here in North Carolina, we continue to ruminate over our maiden voyage. Not so much what went well and what was frustrating necessarily, but what do we have to be more aware of when living on the road.
Obviously, after completing 3400 miles in just over 13 days is something not to be repeated, at least not often. There has to be a comfortable pace that will allow time to smell the roses and not coss the line of becoming bored. Our concept of time will have to be different than what many people are used to. Most people see time as a reference point to be somewhere or a box in which you are limited in the time you have to complete an activity. Time is a unit of measurement that controls our pace. Instead we have to use time. We will need to see time as a rate of exchange, if that makes sense. How much time do we want to use--not how much time do we have to use. This may be just simple semantics, but it is a great difference in perspective.
During our maiden voyage, we were constantly caught up in how much time we had left. This is a point of frustration as what little time we had, we seemed to always be thinking about what was left. At some point this becomes a philosophical debate--do you say "toe-may-toe" or "toe-ma-toe?" So whatever others think or however they rationalize their "time," we are going to make a conscious effort to use our time, not to be controlled by time.
Ever notice how music canbe the greatest influence on our thinking?

Tim and Mary


Pink Floyd

Time Lyrics

Songwriters: WASHINGTON, JUSTINE


Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
And you are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say

BREATHE REPRISE
Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
It’s good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.