All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware – Martin Buber
It’s 2009 and I’m a junior in college. In my dorm room, the chill of winter slowly melting into spring, I’m packing a bag. I hold up different items, weighing their effectiveness in keeping me cool. I’m traveling south, spending spring break on a coffee farm in Nicaragua.
Each item is carefully chosen, rolled, packed and unpacked, and repacked. It’s my first time wearing my luggage while traveling, and I’m afraid of overpacking.
The familiar butterflies of anxiety and nervousness flit about my stomach. Travel makes me nervous, despite a deep desire to do more of it. In my journal, there’s a feeling of excitement and adventure hidden under a barrage of what if’s.
I find that I am both simultaneously captivated and terrified by the world. I want to run toward it and away from it.
Are We There Yet?
Let’s be honest – even though I put 2009, this is how I feel nearly every time I travel somewhere new. There’s a distinct mix of excitement and dread, fear and hope.
Even with more and more trips under my belt, I still sometimes find myself wishing away the journey to a new place. Despite my best efforts, I want to rush through the “getting there,” hurrying through with eyes closed until I’ve “arrived”.
A familiar conversation echoes in my head – “Once I’m there, the real adventure will start. Once I’m no longer in transit, I’ll be safe and can relax.”
On more than one occasion, I’ve seriously contemplated canceling a trip in the days just before. It doesn’t matter how much money I’ve paid, or how long I’ve been looking forward to it. It doesn’t take long for fear and anxiety to step in and do their best to keep me in my safe comfort zone (bless their hearts).
And yet, despite canceled flights, lost baggage, and taking-the-long-way-there-because-you’re-from-out-of-town taxi rides, I continue to travel. I continue to pack my bags, put on my big girl pants, and face the unknown.
I can’t help but wonder – what if the arrival isn’t the only goal? What if we’re called to appreciate the journey as well?
Don’t Miss the Journey
(Almost) no one likes being in transition. Relinquishing control of schedules and belongings is hard. No one likes guessing what’s around the next turn or what challenges the day will hold.
But that doesn’t mean we should pin our focus narrowly on the future. Staying focused on arriving often causes us to miss out on great and spectacular things along the journey.
In re-reading journals and writings from previous trips, I’m surprised at how often I write about being in transit. Musings about people, airports, sunsets and sunrises, views out my window, and hopes for the adventure to come, all weave in and out of the writing I do in transition.
The journey to a place brings its own adventures. Some are echoes of the mundane, routine life found at home. But others are glimpses into something bigger, something wonderful.
On that first trip to Nicaragua, I was still journeying, traveling by ferry across Lake Nicaragua in the darkest dark I’ve ever experienced. Lying face up on a bench on that rocking boat, I saw the most stars I’d ever seen, before or since, and was keenly aware of my smallness in the world.
In transition to Ethiopia, I sat in my tiny airplane seat by the window and watched lightning flash between the clouds.
Traveling to Cambodia I experienced the kindness of strangers in a way my orderly and routine life rarely allows for. Every step of that particular journey felt divinely appointed.
If we close our eyes to the journey, wishing only to arrive faster, we miss some amazing things.
A Sweet Arrival
Opening our eyes to the present and focusing on the journey often brings us back to a childlike wonder about the world. We become both observer and participant, learning as we go, stumbling along the way.
We see the world with new eyes.
Of course, it’s easy to talk about the journey in terms of travel, but being awake to our lives doesn’t have to revolve around the physical trips we take to a new place.
Each of us is on the path of multiple journeys at any one time – a faith journey, a career journey, a health journey, a journey of grief or healing. Maybe you’re on a journey of recovery, of letting go of perfection, or of belonging and finding community.
Some days the journey is small – crossing the street to speak to a neighbor, or walking around the block; other days bring bigger steps farther from home.
Regardless of the journey, the road we’re walking teaches us who we are. We learn how we respond to challenges. Walking our particular path teaches us that we can do hard things, that we’re resourceful and strong.
For many of us, routines and schedules dictate much of our lives. It’s easy to get caught in the daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly patterns of life. Without much effort or thought, these patterns repeat themselves over and over, leaving little room for variation. It becomes harder and harder to find wonder in the journey.
But it’s in paying attention to the journey that we learn invaluable lessons, ultimately making the arrival that much sweeter and more joy-filled.
