Not long ago I too was headed home after to what I referred relentlessly as My Trip of a Lifetime. I am not really sure how this name materialised but, nonetheless, that is what it became. My Trip of a Lifetime. A powerful pronoun that proclaimed something important to be mine. And now as I sit here tracking your very own travels, I know that my journey was something of which I felt compelled to take total ownership. It was mine. I may not have steered it, planned it or even imagined it but it was mine. Mine in the very sense that I took control over myself, my thoughts, senses and feelings all whilst bumping up against the unfamiliar backdrop of contrasting cultural contexts in countries that I experienced.
But then there you were. A flash of silver on the horizon that caught my eye and held my attention. Totally unexpected. And I felt something right then. Something surprisingly significant and so, so...
I did not share. I did not want to speak of you then. It felt sacred. And all the while, the momentum of my impending travels was building.
But then there you still were. Walking alongside me. Getting closer. And with the increasing proximity, there was a subtle subconscious shift in thought to what surrounded me in the now. Like my impending journey, you were just a chance occurrence. Unforeseen, unplanned and unanticipated.
I had been ready, I thought, to step off the precarious ledge of my little ol' life. But just before I took those final fumbling footsteps towards the edge, you were right next to me. And there was a warmth and a backwards pull. And I hesitated.
But I needed to go; to explore, to venture and to experience. I needed to take time away from my life. I was finally out from under the shrouds of the heavy drapes that had wrapped me for the best part of my adult life; sometimes securely and at other times so subtly that I was not even aware of the gentle pressure or feint constraints. But once I had finally pulled myself out from underneath the dust-filled faded metres of muted material, I knew that I had experienced a sense of smothering so much so that I had struggled to breathe for far too long.
With a degree of distraction, I headed off for 25 days of adventure, discovery and time alone with myself. As many people have, I was going to be stepping momentarily out of my life. Just literally. Removed from all that was familiar, routine-ruled, expectation bound and family-friend-familiar. My trip was my chance to ponder with a degree of poignancy of all that had gone before.
BUT the timing was a gaping chasm ripping into something that was so warm, ripe and ready to be lived in the moment.
And as I traipsed through tracks and trails, carving my way through my Trip of a Lifetime, so my thoughts and feelings became more crowded in my mind. Circulating and colliding until one by one, something came tumbling out. And as I began to try to work through some of these life lessons, you were the one with whom I wanted to share this preserved preciousness. No one else.
Instinctively, it was to you that I turned. And despite the vast geographical distance that fell between us, I brought you in close; showing you parts of my life that had never been exposed. You were right there next to me. Silently supporting me from some distant point in the world. So far away and yet you were right next to me. At times, you were with me and we were learning together.
And despite my sense of self vanishing over a period of time before I even knew you, I have come to realise that I don't have any truly tangible regrets. As I began to emerge from the shadows, I thought that I was lost but now I see that I wasn't ever really gone. Just reduced; my volume turned down.
Like a sun damaged pencil drawing, I may have been becoming faint and insignificant despite the seemingly robust and pronounced framing which contained me. But I was still visible and perhaps people saw what they wanted to see; what was expected and what had always been. Perhaps I truly was an optical illusion and I tricked people into seeing what I wanted them to see to protect them and myself. Or perhaps it was too hard to make sense of something so small in a world that is so vast and crowded. I really do not know.
And despite my sense of self vanishing over a period of time before I even knew you, I have come to realise that I don't have any truly tangible regrets. As I began to emerge from the shadows, I thought that I was lost but now I see that I wasn't ever really gone. Just reduced; my volume turned down.
Like a sun damaged pencil drawing, I may have been becoming faint and insignificant despite the seemingly robust and pronounced framing which contained me. But I was still visible and perhaps people saw what they wanted to see; what was expected and what had always been. Perhaps I truly was an optical illusion and I tricked people into seeing what I wanted them to see to protect them and myself. Or perhaps it was too hard to make sense of something so small in a world that is so vast and crowded. I really do not know.
And as I travelled further away, I continued to peel back the protective wrappings of part of my life that I had protected for so long. I was leaving myself exposed. But it felt right. I felt safe. But I was far away and out of sight. And that maybe why it felt so right.
But without the geographical, social, cultural and emotional challenge that was intwined in the trip, I may have never shared so much. The balance had shifted. I held a lens to my former life. Showed you deep inside. Letting you in where no one had ventured before. And then as my trip neared its conclusion, I was not sure. I had bared my soul. And all this across the miles in printed black and white. Unable to modify my response or check the emotional stability through direct and physical contact. It left me naked and unsure. So as I prepared to return, I was fearful of what had come before.
But without the geographical, social, cultural and emotional challenge that was intwined in the trip, I may have never shared so much. The balance had shifted. I held a lens to my former life. Showed you deep inside. Letting you in where no one had ventured before. And then as my trip neared its conclusion, I was not sure. I had bared my soul. And all this across the miles in printed black and white. Unable to modify my response or check the emotional stability through direct and physical contact. It left me naked and unsure. So as I prepared to return, I was fearful of what had come before.
And then there you were. Right up against me. Reaching in and pulling the true me out. It was gentle. It was natural and it seemed timeless.
Connections becoming stronger. Words that spill surprisingly from us remained unspoken.
There you were. Striding purposefully towards me, captivating me. Your strength and conviction an alluring attraction. .
And as I began to relax and realise that I should not fear what I may feel, I anticipated the delicately fine overlay of threads of the possibilities that may come next.
And I am here now back in the folds of familiar, staring out into life.... wondering what will come next.
And now you are heading home... You may be different. Feel different.
Or it may be a case of picking up that proverbial thread and latching back on to where we left off.
Or it may be a case of picking up that proverbial thread and latching back on to where we left off.
And I am left wondering what this may look like. What it will feel like and what we may become... together.
