There have been times on this trip, for any number of reasons, when I’ve wanted to run home. To return to the comforts and stability of my life back in the States. Today was not one of them. Today, I delighted in the new and the undiscovered. Today, I wished I wasn’t leaving this town in 36 hours. As I sit here writing, I wish for more time to sit in the cafes I’m just discovering to be my favorites. More days to learn and practice muy thai. More stimulating and engaging conversations with the man I met over lunch. Today, in all its simplicity, was magic.

We all experience these days. We move effortlessly from one task, one errand, one conversation to another. There seems to be little struggle during the activities and engagements of our day. Even stoplights seem to be conspiring in our favor as we float through a series of green lights. We don’t analyze every minutiae of our day and seem to know exactly what to do next, if anything. Our every motion seems to be at the hand of some benevolent force pushing us along. We are, as the saying goes, in flow. Effortless. Easeful. And content and happy to be just where we are.

I recognize these days by the amount of time I’m pulled to my iPhone and computer. In these days my desire to connect with human beings and be completely present overpowers any desire to be tethered to an electronic device. What’s right in front of me is more engaging than what’s out there in the Never-never Land of space.

Today, lessons and simple pleasures abound. It was as if I could’ve written an entire book about the past 14 hours. I wanted to capture every lesson and observation before they escaped from the weak entrapment of my mind. It was if the world was happening around me and I was simply a witness. Needless to say, memories are fleeting and now, I can only recall a few highlights. I trust the ones I need to remember will remain in my mental databanks, and my heart, for as long as I need them.

I’m seeing a pattern in all my travels. I realized I have a bit of resistance to a new place the first day or two. While experiencing new cultures is wonderful, it means a lot of adjusting and maneuvering to attain some semblance of a routine. You know what it feels like to move to a new town? Imagine doing that every week or even every four or five days. It can be a little unsettling to say the least.

In my first 24-48 hours I usually curse my new accommodations for something not being quite right. I have anxiety about everything I should see or do or buy or taste. (Do you know how many bloody temples there are in Asia? Please.) By day two or three, I relax a bit, find my groove, learn the habits of my new microcosm and settle into contentment. I begin to unearth the hidden gems of a new town or city – it’s people, or it’s food, or it’s culture. I forgive any shortcomings and begin to notice the beauty that surrounds me, no matter what it looks like to the naked eye. And just when I’m really feeling love and appreciation grow, I’m rolling up my clothes and packing to jet off to the next destination. If I had a dollar for every I wish I had another two days here. I may not be a rich woman, but I’d certainly have a nice stash of spare change. I vow that I will try to relax into flow from the get go, but usually find myself once again, pissed off about something or other within moments of touch down in a new town. A mere 48 hours later, I am again, in love with the very place I sent into damnation for the rest of time.

One of the observations my new friend and I made was how we seem to always turn towards writing or analyzing our thoughts when times are shitty. My journal is filled with scribbles of discomfort, anxiety, fear, and uncertainty. What does this mean? What lesson can I learn? How do I grow from this? Hell, all you have to do is take a look at my blogs. Many of them originate from pain or suffering. It seems we only ask why when we wish to alter our current situation.

That’s not a bad thing. I always say pain, be it physical, mental or spiritual, is there for a reason. Pain, if we have a desire to end it, can force us to look at our habits and patterns and notice where we have become complacent in our lives. Pain can move us to change, learn, and evolve. Some of us choose to stay in it because it’s what we know. As agonizing as it may be, our pain is comfortable. And it’s preferable to the misery of change.

So it’s a good thing if we observe the times we are sad, angry, anxious, and fearful. It’s healthy to spend time questioning the source of those emotions – especially if they are consistent and pervasive.

But what about chronicling our moments of delight? How often do we write about the awesome day we had? The beautiful sunset we had the privilege to witness. The heartfelt conversation we shared with a dear, far away friend. The laughter shared with a nearby, new friend. The giddy, tummy-turning possibility of new love. The smile we share with a stranger. The five-minute time out dance session in our living room or office. (Nicole Taylor, I’m thinking of you here!) Or the one-hour exhilarating sweat fest at the gym. How about finding a cafe that serves dairy free, coconut ice cream in the middle of nowhere Thailand. WITH chocolate sauce? We may drift into a blissful slumber with a smile on our face. We most certainly will make sure it’s documented on social media. But rarely do we write about it.

I think it’s high time we investigate and honor when we’re happy because honestly, more and more of us seem to be less and less so. When we experience those rare moments of simple pleasure we should understand what brought us to that place of ease and joy. Revel in radiance, for it is temporary, as all things are. Hopefully we don’t have to dig too deep to see that when we change our internal landscape, the outer world begins to look very different. This is what I try to remember before I board my flight tomorrow and when the next stamp bears down on my passport.

Advertisements