Wherever you go, there you are

I have always loved to travel.  Ever since I was young I loved going on trips with family - local, to the beach with my grandmother, to the lake to visit my grandfather, cities to explore new art and support my family.  In the last ten years of my life, I have prioritized travel more - solo travel especially, but a few memorable trips with loved ones as well.  I just love it all honestly.  And I'm fairly scrappy.  In all of my trips I have checked a bag only twice.  The central purpose for most of my explorations have been curiosity.  I go a little hard, if I'm honest - especially if I'm by myself and not on anyone else's schedule or agenda.  There is a big, beautiful world out there and each time I go anywhere I am guaranteed to learn something, have at least a few more reasons to be humble, feel more connected in the world and perhaps most importantly for me, be Reminded that nature is truly the most astonishing, most beautifully powerful presence.  

This past trip to Northern Italy with my husband was excellent.  I was on a private boat tour on Lake Garda when all of a sudden, in the middle of what seemed like an empty watery space, the boat slowed and stopped.  The Captain drew our attention to one side, where there were bubbles coming to the surface from who knows how far down - a hot spring in the middle of a vast lake.  Come on.  

Then we were up in the Dolomites.  On a stunning 6-mile hike which wove itself between the rocky cliffs and lush green forest.  On our one brief stop for a meal, I heard something that sounded like thunder close by. As I gazed up in the direction of the thunder was the start of a rock slide.  Down came the rocks, rolling down the steep limestone cliffs with nothing but the start of the forest to slow their momentum.  The avalanche was closer than I felt comfortable with and Reminded me that we are SO not in charge.  We run around this world, in our own heads most of the time, mostly preoccupied with either the procurement or retaining of control when in reality, as those rocks Reminded me, at any point in time something more powerful than us can change our lives without our permission.  What is the control really for?

I love this lesson and have learned it in a new way each time I enter nature.  On mountains, under water a hundred feet or more, in cities, in the air - there is only so much we can control.  And so what do we do. 

This trip the jet lag did get me a bit.  Usually I'm able to acclimate within a day but this time it took me two.  And beyond the usual nature lessons, this trip had one more big one in store for me.  Out of the roughly ten days, it wasn't until I was tucked away in our mountain hideaway about half way through that I began to relax.  Shoulders down a little, breathing a bit deeper, laughing a little easier.  The thing that struck me was that all the things I was thinking and feeling back in NYC were the same ones coming to me in my meditations and thoughts all the way over here, too.  The thing is, you can physically travel far and wide all over this amazing gift of a planet we have, and no matter where you go, there YOU will be.  My mind, my thoughts, my "worries", my yearning - they were all just as present in my bathroom in Queens as they were on the tippy top of a mountain.  If the purpose of my travel would be to escape, I would be consistently unsuccessful.  

Lucky for me that's not my aim in travel.  BUT, for SO many of us, changing the outside scenery is often the route folks take thinking that it'll somehow "fix" the "issue".  Not so.  Whatever the thing is you are meant to learn and grow through and navigate - that thing will be there like your shadow wherever you put yourself.  At times you may be able to distract or numb (not that I advise it) - but if the lesson is true and real, it'll be there, waiting on the front porch of your mind whenever you pause.  And that fact is the reason why so many do not slow down (raising my hand high on this one - it's a lesson I've learned many times and still navigate in a way).  

The fear of confronting what's on your porch drives so many to live a life of constant distraction that it becomes subconsciously more important to avoid than to be brave enough to confront.  Ooooooo that's more dangerous than an avalanche.  

The lessons on our porch are there to help us grow.  To grow you've got to look at yourself, reflect, get to know WHY you do the things you do and then develop new thoughts and habits that better serve you.  It's brave, sometimes deeply painful work.  But here's what I know - that learning journey is much shorter and less painful than the avoidant one.  

And at the end of all of our miraculous lives here when something fully beyond our control invites us to move on - I'm telling you what, I want my porch to be squeaky clean.