The Trip Takes Us
It seemed like a great idea at the start.
As Wende and I sat at home in Colorado, reflecting on the simplicity and joy we all found while doing nothing and everything on a beach in a bay in the middle of nowhere, Colombia, we realized that we had, in a matter of days, lost that joy. We had been sucked, unwittingly and unknowingly, back into the vortex of life, the bewildering swirl of to-do’s and must-do’s, of should haves and would haves and could haves, of schedules to keep and benchmarks to meet and little, if any, joy to be found. Yet here we had everything one could want – a nice house, a couple of cars, cute kids and a dog, a yard, and two jobs – but the place we pined for had so much more with so much less.
And, perhaps it wasn’t the place, but rather the ethic, the simplicity of life demanded by the intricacy of the environment and the dedication of the people, that we missed. Our friends on that lonely stretch of beach, the Montoyas of Morromico, had made, years ago, a conscious choice to live with far less so they could have so very much more.
We wanted that, too, not just for us, but for our kids. And, we felt, within the simple message of Morromico, we’d find something that more of the world would want, too: happiness borne of simplicity, joy hewn from lives focused on what’s real rather than what’s deemed important, but might not actually be.
So, we hatched a plan: a year abroad, living out of a duffel bag, focused on living simply and searching out those who do the same, who have chosen a more difficult life centered on passion and purpose, difficulty demanding simplicity and leading to joy.
And now, here we are, one month into this adventure, and it’s not precisely the peaches-and-cream, joyous journey we had all envisioned. As Wende noted in her recent post, some of this is thanks to our decision to not take the simple path: we’re traveling to many countries, with our kids, home-schooling, and have our first child, Pema, along for the ride and to keep us all sane. But, a lot of it is simply the ideal of travel juxtaposed against the reality of travel: it’s just not that easy. Life happens on the road, and $*#& does, too. We’re in each other’s space 24-7, and tensions flare. We all have needs, and inevitably somebody’s needs are not being met at any given moment. We’re immersed always in the nuances and challenges of foreign lands, cultures, languages, and more. And, sometimes we squish a van between a truck and a cliff on a narrow mountain road, like I did yesterday. Yup, $*#& happens.
But, that’s the whole point, I guess. We’re getting out of our comfort zone, pushing into the unknown – literally and figuratively. We’re reaching beyond the chaotic, complex comfort of home which left us drifting, and digging into the challenge and beauty this new realm which makes us cry, makes us laugh, makes us ponder, and – ultimately – brings us joy. Sometimes we just have to look for it.
As Steinbeck wrote: “Once a journey is designed, equipped, and put in process, a new factor enters and takes over. A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from all other journeys. It has personality, temperament, individuality, uniqueness. A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.”