Throwback Thursday, European-Style
Snaking my way across Spain on a leisurely, half-empty passenger train bound for Madrid, I am shocked just how quickly the hours can pass without one single thought of boredom entering my mind. I pass a good portion of the time staring out the large square window to my right, taking note of the endless expanses of green and brown land, dotted with nothing more than farms here and there and the occasional small city or town popping up rather infrequently. The sky is blazing blue, clear and stunning. I'm feeling it. I like Spain. And having spent three days exploring (and slowly falling in love with) Barcelona, I can say with confidence that five total days in this country will likely serve as nothing more than a sneak preview of a longer visit that will happen at some point in the future.
As for Madrid, for so long now the capital of Spain has served as an important benchmark in my discussions about Europe, a giant "X" marking the spot of the last stop on this epic journey of mine. And taking this one final train ride has me reeling a little. I keep hearing the announcement over the intercom, at least in my imagination, proclaiming arrival at this train's final destination.
"Proxima Estacion: Madrid." Next stop, Madrid. Or more appropriately for me, The End.
I am struggling to decipher what this all means, never mind weeding through the swirl of emotions that arises whenever I start to contemplate the closure of this adventurous little chapter of my life. So I will just start with what I do know. I am relaxed. Really, really relaxed. At times in the past few months I have often joked that my blood pressure might be too low to register, the biggest culprit of the slow flow naturally being that I haven't worked in three and a half months. I can hardly wrap my mind around that concept. Somehow this feels like an accomplishment quite worthy of celebration. I have completely forgotten what it feels like to have to turn that alarm off, roll out of bed, wipe the sleep from the corners of my eyes well before the crack of dawn, and then proceed to eight hours of imprisonment just to be able to pay my way in the world. I just don't get it anymore. Hell, I can barely remember what day it is at this point. Days don't matter when you are traveling for months at a time. Weekdays, weekends--who cares. Just be careful in Europe not to travel on Sundays if you can help it, I learned early on, as many places here shut down on the Sabbath, rendering long treks across some countries more difficult. OK, so Sundays must be on the radar. Fine. The rest of the days can still fly under.
And what about time? Just another concept whose stranglehold gets very, very loosened when the number one priority of any day is simply to see where the day takes you. To quote Jimmy Buffet's infamous line, it is indeed five o'clock somewhere, anywhere, when you are on the road. Time has no meaning, except to help direct you to the nearest plane, train, automobile or boat en route to the next stop along the way. Long trips are common yet never to be feared. For the record, today I took a nearly nine hour train ride. And also for the record, I was far from bored. Sitting still is such a blessing. Darting from place to place all these weeks has really helped me to appreciate the chunks of down time that come between destinations. Time just keeps chugging along regardless of how I choose to spend it. Sometimes I end up talking to a fellow passenger for hours on end. Other times, I read. I stare out the window. I nap. I listen to music. I do all of the above at once. It just depends, and never on how much time I have to indulge any of those whims, but rather on whatever I feel like doing in that particular second of my existence.
This freedom from the binds of time is downright intoxicating, addictive even. Living in the present moment can be a wondrous byproduct of this perceived timelessness. It seems to happen so effortlessly that you don't even know you are doing it until you begin reflecting back on it all, effectively ending your orgiastic wallow in the "now". Maybe that's the reason I have not written as much during my travels as I originally figured I would. To be sure, it's not for lack of things to say, stories to share or thoughts to ponder; I have taken lots of notes and started many blog posts that have yet to find their endings. I suppose maybe I just never wanted to be the first one to leave the orgy. Who does, right? Wallowing always just seemed logical, in whatever way logic can be applied to such decisions.
Let me be clear here. I am in no way implying that I can keep this up forever. Not even I am that delusional, after taking such a fantasy ride around Europe all summer, to think that I will never again have to set my alarm clock for work or do what it takes to get the cash flowing again. It's just that, well, the road ahead is officially wide open. Throw out the old rule book. None of it applies, not that it ever did anyway. And traveling the globe is not necessary to discover such a "secret", but it has certainly driven the point home loud and clear for me. All of this has been at my fingertips the whole time, but that is the beauty in having our own individual life experiences. We all may reach the same conclusions eventually, but how we get there is part of the fabric of who we think we are in this world. Again, another concept that is always in flux-- Who we think we are. I'm sure I have come up with several thousand different titles, descriptions or pure fantasies of who I have thought I was during the course of my 39 years on this lovely planet. Dare I say, there will probably be thousands more before it's all over with. And who knows, there could even be a few hundred next week alone. I wouldn't doubt it.
So who do I think I am right now? I honestly can't say. Instead, I will just check in with my feelings, which seems to work a little better for me on most days. Let's start with hugely, indescribably grateful for this entire experience and go from there. Happy. Content. Tender. Alive. Full of wonder. A little melancholy to see this whole journey wind down, but way more than a little excited to see what comes next. Awestruck at just how limitless the possibilities are. Ecstatic that no matter what, I have myself to rely on. Feeling the love inside. My heart is full and open. I have acknowledged its overwhelming presence and can fully admit that its place in the scheme of my life is extraordinarily meaningful.
And so everything goes. On and on, round and round. Joyfully, the adventure continues.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
As for Madrid, for so long now the capital of Spain has served as an important benchmark in my discussions about Europe, a giant "X" marking the spot of the last stop on this epic journey of mine. And taking this one final train ride has me reeling a little. I keep hearing the announcement over the intercom, at least in my imagination, proclaiming arrival at this train's final destination.
"Proxima Estacion: Madrid." Next stop, Madrid. Or more appropriately for me, The End.
I am struggling to decipher what this all means, never mind weeding through the swirl of emotions that arises whenever I start to contemplate the closure of this adventurous little chapter of my life. So I will just start with what I do know. I am relaxed. Really, really relaxed. At times in the past few months I have often joked that my blood pressure might be too low to register, the biggest culprit of the slow flow naturally being that I haven't worked in three and a half months. I can hardly wrap my mind around that concept. Somehow this feels like an accomplishment quite worthy of celebration. I have completely forgotten what it feels like to have to turn that alarm off, roll out of bed, wipe the sleep from the corners of my eyes well before the crack of dawn, and then proceed to eight hours of imprisonment just to be able to pay my way in the world. I just don't get it anymore. Hell, I can barely remember what day it is at this point. Days don't matter when you are traveling for months at a time. Weekdays, weekends--who cares. Just be careful in Europe not to travel on Sundays if you can help it, I learned early on, as many places here shut down on the Sabbath, rendering long treks across some countries more difficult. OK, so Sundays must be on the radar. Fine. The rest of the days can still fly under.
And what about time? Just another concept whose stranglehold gets very, very loosened when the number one priority of any day is simply to see where the day takes you. To quote Jimmy Buffet's infamous line, it is indeed five o'clock somewhere, anywhere, when you are on the road. Time has no meaning, except to help direct you to the nearest plane, train, automobile or boat en route to the next stop along the way. Long trips are common yet never to be feared. For the record, today I took a nearly nine hour train ride. And also for the record, I was far from bored. Sitting still is such a blessing. Darting from place to place all these weeks has really helped me to appreciate the chunks of down time that come between destinations. Time just keeps chugging along regardless of how I choose to spend it. Sometimes I end up talking to a fellow passenger for hours on end. Other times, I read. I stare out the window. I nap. I listen to music. I do all of the above at once. It just depends, and never on how much time I have to indulge any of those whims, but rather on whatever I feel like doing in that particular second of my existence.
This freedom from the binds of time is downright intoxicating, addictive even. Living in the present moment can be a wondrous byproduct of this perceived timelessness. It seems to happen so effortlessly that you don't even know you are doing it until you begin reflecting back on it all, effectively ending your orgiastic wallow in the "now". Maybe that's the reason I have not written as much during my travels as I originally figured I would. To be sure, it's not for lack of things to say, stories to share or thoughts to ponder; I have taken lots of notes and started many blog posts that have yet to find their endings. I suppose maybe I just never wanted to be the first one to leave the orgy. Who does, right? Wallowing always just seemed logical, in whatever way logic can be applied to such decisions.
Let me be clear here. I am in no way implying that I can keep this up forever. Not even I am that delusional, after taking such a fantasy ride around Europe all summer, to think that I will never again have to set my alarm clock for work or do what it takes to get the cash flowing again. It's just that, well, the road ahead is officially wide open. Throw out the old rule book. None of it applies, not that it ever did anyway. And traveling the globe is not necessary to discover such a "secret", but it has certainly driven the point home loud and clear for me. All of this has been at my fingertips the whole time, but that is the beauty in having our own individual life experiences. We all may reach the same conclusions eventually, but how we get there is part of the fabric of who we think we are in this world. Again, another concept that is always in flux-- Who we think we are. I'm sure I have come up with several thousand different titles, descriptions or pure fantasies of who I have thought I was during the course of my 39 years on this lovely planet. Dare I say, there will probably be thousands more before it's all over with. And who knows, there could even be a few hundred next week alone. I wouldn't doubt it.
So who do I think I am right now? I honestly can't say. Instead, I will just check in with my feelings, which seems to work a little better for me on most days. Let's start with hugely, indescribably grateful for this entire experience and go from there. Happy. Content. Tender. Alive. Full of wonder. A little melancholy to see this whole journey wind down, but way more than a little excited to see what comes next. Awestruck at just how limitless the possibilities are. Ecstatic that no matter what, I have myself to rely on. Feeling the love inside. My heart is full and open. I have acknowledged its overwhelming presence and can fully admit that its place in the scheme of my life is extraordinarily meaningful.
And so everything goes. On and on, round and round. Joyfully, the adventure continues.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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