What is the point? Of traveling? Of leaving my beautiful, comfortable, safe home & stunningly gorgeous community? Of taking myself away from my sister, my niece, nephews, son, granddaughter, mom, & dear, dear friends?
I've spent the past year seeing new places, meeting new people, learning new skills, & quite often longing for home & safety.
What is the point? I ask this sometimes during moments of frustration with boat life and constant traveling. Sometimes I ask it of Adam with a note of accusation in my voice, like this is all his fault. (It's not. We decided together to do this.)
What do I miss? Partially I miss the knowing what my purpose and place was. What did I know about my purpose? It was to Love. Not to feel love, but to love- verb style. To love the kind of love that is a synonym for listening and seeking to understand rather than just seeking to be understood. To love the kind of love that stands up for those less fortunate than I. To love the kind of love that seeks to protect the wild and lonely places, the kind of love that cares for all sentient beings.
And just now, today, reminiscing about what was really so great about my old, Colorado life, I realize that my purpose is still the same. It sometimes seems harder to love "strangers" and "strange" places, or to love when I feel out of sorts, but it's not impossible.
I asked Adam, "What are we really working towards?" What's the point? I asked just a few days ago. I've been internally struggling with various versions of this question for awhile... feeling superfluous, extra, unnecessary.
Just this moment it came to me. My purpose is still the same. To Love. Verb love -- Listen, Learn, Care. That's all.
We have a home base for the summer. We're tidying up the boat, getting it guest ready.
Yesterday I realized, again, that a few of the people I count as absolutely indispensable friends, we met through AirBNB. It made me excited to wonder who we might meet this summer. And it helped with boat cleaning motivation.
Thanks to facebook for the memory of where we were one year ago. (Lake Dillon , Colorado, Prospector Campground) It sparked some good reflections and some new insights... still mixed with the pain of longing. Which, I realize, might never go away. How could I have such a love affair with a place and it's people? And why would I turn it into a kind of unrequited love, on purpose? Not just for novelty. I used to profess my love for the whole planet and all it's sentient beings. And I did that without even having been to all the places or having met all the sentient beings. So maybe the point of all this is to make my love bigger and deeper and stronger and truer? Maybe.
Thank you, Jeannie and Tay and Mary, (and Tammy and Jordan and Vi) for helping me find these insights through some recent conversations we've had. I love you each, very specifically and exuberantly.
