Hello, dear readers! So much has happened in the weeks since my last post. In fact, this calls for a list. In the last five weeks:
- I have been traveling for three of them
- Six foreign countries for two weeks
- Northeastern U.S.A. for one week
- In between that travel–a friend died, suddenly 😦
- I found out one of my best friends of 20 years, Lindsey, is moving to Colorado a week from Saturday—a possibility I did not want to face
- I was asked to be in a wedding
- I’ve been very sick twice
- I assisted with my sister’s huge Disney-themed surprise birthday party, dressed as a feverish strep-throated Rapunzel
- I’ve written–a lot
Each of these bullet points deserves at least one post of its own; life has been a whirlwind of good and bad lately. I’m struck by all the extremes and opposites I’ve been experiencing, as if life is off-kilter and trying to correct itself, swinging wildly side to side. I’ve been disoriented, honestly, never quite having enough time to process any one thing before the next occurred. I was thankful to have my fiction and travel to escape into–or so I thought.
It felt like escape, whisking myself away into unknown lands, real or fictional. I wasn’t running away, per se–it was all scheduled, hours-off-earned, wages saved. But it sure did feel nice to leave the stresses of the everyday behind. I am grateful for the life I have, but even the most beautiful lives earn stress–I think it’s automatic when you join with people and activities you care about. 😉
Through it all, I wrote and wrote and wrote. I wrote scores of pages for my novel; I wrote whimsical poetry; I wrote a eulogy. Somehow, writing kept my life stitched together, all these crazy layers that didn’t match.
I had an epiphany today, reflecting on what to write for this blog post, as my blog is part of returning to my normal life. I realized that these “escapes”–travel, fantasy–they are just lenses of the everyday. My memoir teacher, who is also a travel writing teacher, told me that people find themselves when they travel. “That’s bizarre,” I thought–I’ve been traveling all my life, and I’d never noticed that. But now, after more than twenty years of it, I’ve finally experienced what she meant. It crept up on me, flowed through me, like the waves that were a part of all those three weeks away: a certain peace that came from knowing that life was not, in fact, falling apart; that every footstep was new and full of possibility; that the world was much, much bigger than me. It was a relief to walk on millenia-old pathways to find destinations at once ancient and new to me; and in this way, in this ritual of one foot in front of the other, I remembered old paths can be made new again. Even though I treasure words for expression, I find this concept difficult to describe–it is a feeling so deep within me that I can’t unwind it and pull it out. Suffice it to say, I found travel made me stronger, despite–or maybe because of–kayak and hiking blisters and scrapes–stronger in my knowledge of who I am, how I feel, and how I navigate life.
I’m almost done with this abstract post, I promise. 😉 My last point is the other lense: fantasy. I believe I’ve mentioned this in previous posts, but to me, fantasy is just reality dressed-up. I think it’s harder for us to stare difficult truths in the face than it is to disguise them in whimsy and impossibilities. (This is part of the fun I have in cosplay–it’s a disguise of truth, emphasizing chosen personality aspects in a visual way.) So–it’s easier for us to understand ourselves when we’re reading about people and places that aren’t ours–we don’t put up defenses, because why would we defend something we don’t know? And in that openness, we learn truths we can apply to our own lives.
Perhaps this is a little dense for the hour–so I shall end the post here, for now. I hope to expound upon some of those bullet points more soon, in future points. And if my tone seemed melancholy, I didn’t mean it–I am feeling more awestruck and full of wonder than anything else. This world, this life is beautiful; we only have one, whatever else we make up in our minds–and this span of time has only reinforced the idea, for me, that we must treasure every day, every love, every adventure, every second, as much as possible.