Reflections On A Year

A Year Ago

I often catch myself saying something like “how time flies”. When I think more about that, it seems so passive, as if life, and time, happen to you. But that’s not how I feel right now. That’s not how I think about the past 365 days, the year since I left New York City on a flight to Seattle and onward to Anchorage. I feel like I could describe the details of any of these days on the spot. This year has been so full of life, so full of adventure, and learning, and experience, and people, that it doesn’t feel like it has flown at all. It feels intense. It feels satisfying. It feels slow. It feels like a broad smile.

Three hundred sixty-five days ago, I left my parents’ apartment for a 6am flight out of Newark to Alaska. It had been a full few days of quitting my job, saying goodbye, doing things around the city that I had on my “bucket list”, and eating as much good food as I could. I felt excited. I felt ready. Ready for what? I wasn’t sure exactly, but I knew that whatever it was, I wanted it.

People had asked me before I left, often with some sarcasm, “so are you going on some spiritual vision quest?” or “are you going to find yourself?”. I really have no idea what that means, but I can say that I have found plenty, learned so much, and met incredible people all along the way. In doing so, I have definitely become a more spiritually minded person, and I’ve definitely come to understand myself a lot better. But was that ever the intention? I think my main intentions were twofold: try new things and let go of planning so much.

The important things that stick out to me now, though, are mainly: freedom and acceptance. I think these are just different angles on the same things I had set out a year ago.

I feel that having been away from my “home”, from my friends, from my family, from my partner, has given me the opportunity to experience a level of freedom that I never knew existed. There’s more to it than simply not working in an office, or being able to go wherever I like, though that plays a big part. It’s about waking up with the confidence that no matter what, today will be great. This confidence comes from acceptance, knowing that whatever happens, I’ll be able to find happiness in my day. That if something goes a way that I didn’t want it to, I’ll be able to react to it peacefully and with awareness. After all, I still have ten fingers and ten toes, so things will be okay. And even if I lose one or twenty, I’ll still be alive. Freedom is waking up with no idea of what you want to do today except for being happy.

A Year Later

When I look at the route I’ve taken, it looks ridiculous. Lots of back and forth, lots of crisscrossing, but it’s exactly the way it was meant to be. I’ve met people who have spent a full year in a small region of Guatemala and worry that they’ve gone too fast and there’s so much more to explore. I’ve also encountered people who have traveled several continents in the span of a month and feel like they have seen what they wanted to. Pace is relative, and I feel good about the one I’m moving at. Then again, I thought I’d be able to use the cool functionality on that map to show a line to where I’d be going next. But after a while, I haven’t been able to predict where I’d be day by day, and that is a good reminder of what this trip is about.

Today, August 13, 2018, started out in ways that I could not have conceived of a year ago. I woke up in a the parking lot of a rugby field in Tully, Australia, inside a campervan with a friend, Carole, who I met not even two days ago. We drove to Mission Beach, where I made my go-to breakfast out of the back of the van (eggs with PB / Nutella / banana toast) and then spent most of the day swimming in the ocean, reading and napping on the beach. Only a few other people were out, and the only noise was the wind through the palm trees, and the ocean’s waves crashing on the sand. I had no idea that I would be here even two days ago, yet this was exactly what I needed in this moment after 3+ weeks in Australia constantly on the move.

On the street where we parked by the beach were many other campervans and RVs, mostly inhabited by older folks taking a few months to escape the “cold” Australian winter and travel up the east coast. We had a couple of ice packs that we needed to freeze, so Carole asked someone nearby if we could put them in their freezer for the day. When we returned a few hours later, not only did we get our ice packs back frozen, but apparently they had caught a bunch of fish today and gave us two big fresh fish steaks for dinner. I haven’t cooked fish since I was in Alaska, nearly a year ago, and it was glorious. We cooked it in the back of the van back at the rugby field, ate it sitting in the grass, and topped it off with some wine.

That’s what this trip has felt like. Serendipity. Opening myself to the wonderful possibilities that cannot be predicted or imagined.

Acceptance has been another big learning point for me. Recognizing, but more importantly internalizing, the fact that things are constantly changing. That nothing is ever the same. That the circumstances of your life are only a very small part of how you live your life. When something happens, you have three choices of how to react: 1) accept the situation as it is, 2) try to change the situation, or 3) remove yourself from the situation. All three are valid, but accepting what has already happened is the easiest path to happiness, and that’s what I’m aiming for. While these are certainly ideas that I’ve considered before this trip, the people I’ve met, the places I’ve seen, and the things I’ve learned along the way have definitely solidified it for me.

Another theme that continues to amaze me is just how small the world is, and how hospitable and helpful people are worldwide. How willing people are to lend a hand. I’ve been welcomed to spend over 65 nights with 16 different people I know in Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Mexico, and the U.S. That doesn’t even include Couchsurfing.

I reunited with Josh in Denver after not seeing him for 7 years because I checked in on Facebook with Mary a day prior. I met Tammy on Facebook in New Zealand and ended up spending six weeks with her driving and hiking through one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I met Sarah and Lee in Guatemala, then literally bumped into them in Ecuador, and then finally in New Zealand, and ended up selling my van to them. I met my friends Rishi in Ecuador and Lauren in Brazil on total happenstance of timing. My old coworker Chris called my name in an airport lounge in Colombia and we ended up spending hours on the plane to Brazil chatting. I met Vivien in (not at) a lake in Guatemala, then again on a chicken bus a few days later, and then was totally welcomed into her home on Thursday Island in Australia last week. I met the most wonderful people at Hridaya in Mazunte in November, and then got to be greeted by my now-dear friend Casey when I first arrived at the gate in Adelaide. And there’s so many more people, even just in Australia, who I hope to reconnect with in the coming months.

The more I travel, the smaller the world feels, and the more I know that I have family everywhere.

So what’s next? When are you coming home?

These are the questions I’ve been getting more recently. And they are a lot easier to answer:

I don’t know.

I think I’ve got budget for another 6+ months, but I’m hoping to stretch that further with some volunteering / work exchange so that I am not going back to the U.S. during winter. Because, honestly, that would suck.

Then again, who knows what lies ahead. All I’m pretty sure of is that I’ll wake up again tomorrow (hopefully) in the van and get to make decisions about what I do and not have to ask anyone for permission, not need to worry about whether I should be doing something else, and just get to enjoy every moment. Enjoy the change that is guaranteed to be taking place.

I haven’t made the time to write as much as I had thought, but maybe that will change as I take some time to slow down. But maybe not. Thanks for not judging me for that, either way.

Bottom line is that I’m a year into this journey, and I’m not feeling any burnout, any travel fatigue, or any regrets. Six months ago I celebrated with a night out during Carnival in Montañita, Ecuador with my old friend Rishi, and today I celebrated with a new friend, also on a beach, but in a much quieter way  Each day has been a gift, and I keep trying to stay centered on this idea so that I can enjoy everything that comes my way.