We Travel Not to Escape Life

But For Life Not to Escape Us

I love this anonymous quote.

And I love that it I received it from a running coach whose class I no longer take, but who keeps me on his list. I e-mailed him this morning to say thank you because although I prefer to run by myself, his inspiring messages cheer me on from afar.

What does it mean to travel?

There are people who travel mostly to their garden and back who seem far more worldly than people I know who have literally traveled the world.

I have a kind of funny story that is indicative of my perhaps, unusual point of view. I was in a Mommy and Me Two’s program with Leo (eight years ago). His teacher asked us to put our names and a trip we had taken recently on the nametag sticky.

I was excited because just that morning, Leo and I were out walking around our back woods and he said, the acorn tops look like hats. So we went on an acorn hat hunting adventure and collected as many as our as our pockets would hold.

This seemed like the perfect answer to her question.

I wrote our names and below it: Acorn Hat Hunting.

It was clear as I looked at other peoples nametags with Martha’s Vineyard and Jones Beach that they were looking for something a bit more in the box.

I know, you are probably thinking, wow, not quite playing with a full deck. Or thank goodness her son was only two. Or maybe she has matured, entered a more culturally aware consciousness.

Nope. Not at all.

As I get older, I crave creative traveling more than any other.

This could be acorn hat hunting in our backyard, crepe-testing in Paris, marshmellow-roasting on Pacayo Volcano in Guatamala, or cheese sampling at Fairway.

What I am looking for is not just the trip, but whatever spontaneous, authentic experience grows out if it.

Here’s one more freaky story to demonstrate.

We were walking the marble streets of Ephesis in Turkey last summer and the guide was explaining how the pattern of the mosaics were symbolic of that family’s lineage and each could be differentiated by the geometric or floral detailing.

It was sort of like the Irish equivalent of their coat of arms and was used on carpets as well.

I found this fascinating.

Finn, who was seven, found the Italian beetle crawling along the gutter far more fascinating. I was strongly encouraging him to pay attention and listen to what she was saying, when a guide from the tour behind us chimed in.

Smiling, she very warmly and respectfully said, he is noticing the only things around here that are actually alive.

What is alive?

Another thrilling question. Different for everyone. And yet deeply crucial to any kind of meaningful existence.

Joe and I had a wonderful dinner last night with his oncologist from twenty-six years ago– the man whose wisdom and kindness helped save his life. It is the time he has bee open to a seeing Joe socially.

He got divorced several years ago because everything in his life felt dead.

He is currently on a quest for what makes him feel alive.

And it was worth breaking rules about socializing with patients to experience the joyous, celebratory way Joe makes those he loves feel vibrantly, thrillingly alive.

I have to remind myself to loosen up my grip on the rules I think keeps our life running smoothly. I forget so easily it is all the rough edges where we get to travel.

All the best trips are outside the margins of our carefully planned agenda.