Just yesterday, I heard it again. “Life
is a journey.” While it's hard to argue with that, lately I find
myself wanting to turn the adage on its head. “A journey is life.”
I seldom feel more alive that when I
set out on a trip, especially when I travel solo and into unfamiliar
territory. Away from the commonplace comforts and concerns of daily
existence, life speaks to me more clearly, and with a startling
intimacy.
Everything
is fresh. The very air of an unknown place rouses me. The
landscape, be it uniquely contoured mountains or the teeming streets of an unknown city, lights me up. And the people! To be tossed among fellow
humans whose ways are so different from my own, to taste food awash
with exotic flavors, and to absorb the lilting cadence of a barely
known language~~all these enliven me.
Are the colors really brighter, more
dazzling, or am I simply seeing them as they truly are, no longer a
step removed by familiarity? Of course, it is the latter. Traveling
awakens me. Loosed from my spot in the stream, the current gathers me up and
carries me on.
And whether I trust that flow or not, carry me it will. Yet when all is astonishingly new, I feel compelled to trust, for I know myself to be at the mercy of the unknown. What unfolds may not always be pleasant, but it will be real.
And whether I trust that flow or not, carry me it will. Yet when all is astonishingly new, I feel compelled to trust, for I know myself to be at the mercy of the unknown. What unfolds may not always be pleasant, but it will be real.
Spiritual traditions urge us to be in
the moment, greeting whatever comes. Yet we are lulled by the
familiar in ways that make it difficult to experience things purely,
without the filters of habit. We aim to be present. We seek to drop
our preoccupations and expectations, and even have techniques and
practices to assist.
It is, indeed, a worthy endeavor, one that may even be essential in the quest for a rich and full life. But to be taken away from everything I think I know and thrust into an experience altogether unique is priceless. Used wisely, such journeys become an exercise for living more consciously back at home.
It is, indeed, a worthy endeavor, one that may even be essential in the quest for a rich and full life. But to be taken away from everything I think I know and thrust into an experience altogether unique is priceless. Used wisely, such journeys become an exercise for living more consciously back at home.
At a recent performance of the chamber
jazz duo Primal Mates, I was introduced to a line from a poem
by Gary Snyder that says it perfectly. “Catch me and fling me
wide to the dancing grain of things.”
The dancing grain of things. This
lovely phrase has become for me yet another metaphor for God. Seen in
this light, journeying is one more way to honor the Divine, a rite of
sorts. By participating fully, body and soul, I am caught up, flung
wide, and offered a precious opportunity to touch that dancing grain
at the heart of it all.
So, that's it from me for now. I'll
catch you on the other side of Peru.
Namasté, ya'll!
Namasté, ya'll!
Leia Marie
Oh, and while I look forward, as always, to any comments you may be inspired to send, due to my being a travelin' gal for a while, those comments likely won't be posted here for a few weeks.
Oh, and while I look forward, as always, to any comments you may be inspired to send, due to my being a travelin' gal for a while, those comments likely won't be posted here for a few weeks.
