on untold stories and the quite ordinary
August 1st. I was at a crossroads and feeling particularly torn in figuring out plans for the remainder of the month. The two week trip I was planning to Australia seemed outlandish and personal reasons left me at a point of almost cancelling it. My mind wandering and anticipating feeling regret and disappointment over the memories that would never be made if I chose not to go. The night before, I came across this quote, I read and re-read it and I couldn’t shake the way it resonated with me:
“I know that my achievement is quite ordinary. I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.”
―Jhumpa Lahiri, Interpreter of Maladies
I had spent the prior two months driving my car up the west coast, starting at home in San Diego and arriving at my final destination, Seattle, while fitting in an international conference, vacation, weddings, camping, group trips, and checked off a few major summits in between. Every situation introduced me to someone new, confronted me with challenges that I had to overcome, or allowed me to learn something different about the world and myself. The number of rooms I had slept in, couches I had crashed on, and campsites I called a temporary home are all pieces that played a part in discovering different facets of my identity. I would’ve loved to stay in Seattle indefinitely, but very calculated decisions needed to be made and August 1st was when I left (somewhat abruptly but overall for the best). Spending one month there was just enough time to put down roots, develop deeper friendships, and find a routine before it was cut short once again. I was in my car the morning after, with 20 hours of driving ahead of me over the next two days.
Travel has taught me many things, and the one I am eternally grateful for is growing accustomed to and accepting bittersweet endings. It isn’t the grandiosity of travel that appeals me, it isn’t the crossing things of a bucket list and clout that comes with being someone that’s “well-traveled” or the attention that comes once you decide to go against the status quo and live in an unconventional way. In a strange and brutal way, it’s the learning to live “without” that I love. It’s becoming a minimalist and discovering packing as an art, falling in love with backpacking itself as a true form of self-sufficiency and seeing how simple life can be having everything you need to survive carried on your self. The things we think we need we actually really don’t - and our own beliefs of what we thought we could do is upended when we are put in difficult environments or when we observe the way other people live in ways that are very unlike our own. Privilege is hard to recognize when you’re used to being in situations that you can control and where most outcomes are routine and comfortable.
I started writing this blog post on the rainy afternoon I spent hopping around different cafes in Darling Square, NSW, Australia. Surprise - the trip still happened and the whirlwind of events, trips, hikes, and experiences those two weeks was nothing short of a dream. I was sitting in Edition Roasters Cafe and debating whether I should leave soon to avoid the eventual downpour. I thought about it for long enough…wanting to come to a precise decision with what makes the most sense to maximize my overall contentment and comfort the remainder of the day. In those moments where I find myself falling back into wanting to control, I remind myself that the act of letting things go, planning less, and going with the flow has always led to better memories and stories to be told than I ever could’ve never imagined.
