For the Soulful Traveler
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ON
THE ROAD AGAIN Of course! As travelers, we often feel stranded, lost in the sea of the non-nomadic. We're desperate to take our traveling wings and soar. In the past couple of years, I have grounded myself for a wee bit in order to write. Okay, it's more like--how am I ever going to make a home for myself if I can't stay put long enough? I'm trying. I really am. I'm making every effort I can to ignore the whispers within. But I'll admit it--every night I dream of THERE. Lately, it's been cruises. I have never been on a mega-ship but somehow I can envision the whole thing, complete with friends and family. Maybe it's the lingering images from Titanic or too many episodes of Love Boat. Whatever its source, my wanderlust is very real--to me and to the many others with whom I have shared the road. We return and no sooner do we land, then our mental flight is being called, our cerebral airport transporting us to magical far-off locales. Even when we are back on our old home turf, we're still just hovering. How do we stop? I'm not sure we can. Nor should we. We seem to have this endless energy supply which requires us to escape, venture out, and explore other places. "Adrenalin is our travel allowance," wrote Bruce Chatwin, author of In Patagonia and The Songlines. "Our brains have an information system giving us our orders for the road, and that here lie the mainsprings of our restlessness." All of us possess this restlessness. And, like everything, it's a question of degree. Some manage to get away for long stretches while others allow only short, infrequent jaunts. Too much work. Can't find the time. So they say. Many Americans take only two weeks a year for vacation. Most operate on a paltry seven or ten days. These are astonishing statistics when compared to the Europeans who enjoy a more lavish five to six weeks of freedom. Of course, we also need a sense of Home. Even Chatwin, the intrepid soul, had "a compulsion to return--a homing instinct like a migrating bird." We need to find a balance, a grace that works for each of us. My friend Jack used to be gone twice a year for six to eight weeks at a time. Lately, he's discovered that his wanderlust has changed or, as he puts it, 'evolved'. Now, he seems happier tending to his garden and taking shorter weekend outings. At first, he was worried but not anymore. "It wouldn't surprise me," he explains, "if I were to wake up one day, drop my hoe and shovel, pack my bags and go." Such is the nature of this irrepressible desire. Our wanderlust doesn't disappear; from time to time, it just needs a break. Like Jack, we must come to embrace the balance between Home and Away. They are both to be celebrated. Each has its place in our lives. When you sense the need to go, go. And the next time you're feeling the need to stop, stop. Stop and appreciate the qualities of Home. As for our more sessile friends and relatives, maybe they should consider getting away more often. And, if they ask nicely, we might consider going along for the ride.
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