Inspiration and Travel

"The world is a book, and those who don't travel only read one page." ~ St. Augustine

In the next six weeks, I am going to be traveling to 5 different states. My schedule is daunting and each destination will require a high level of energy from me. I am going to moving my teenagers into two different (and new) spaces 1800 miles apart from one another. I'm going to visit with dear friends and family. I'm going have the chance to visit many new places to which I've never traveled before. I will have a tight schedule, and each piece of the itinerary is going to have to line up perfectly in order for me to accomplish each key mission. At the same time, I don't want to visit each of these unfamiliar destinations with my head buried in a day planner. My hope is to a bang up job for the crucial reasons I'm in each place, but I also have faith that I'll have enough time, each in every location, for wonder, for daydreaming, for unplanned exploration and for discovery.

My first mission will be going to Florida to help find my son an apartment, to furnish it and to get him ready to move in later in August. Because I'm from the west coast, my family tends to go west on our vacations, rather than south from New England. Florida is a completely new expedition for us, and I'm incredibly proud of my son for forging off on his own in this way. In moving to Florida from Maine, Joshua is being quite intrepid....he is moving away from everything that's familiar and comforting. Because of his move, I get the pleasure in learning about a new place along with him. My hope is that we'll get to know the area extremely well. I don't want to just walk into national chain stores. Rather, I want to discover the offbeat places, the ones that locals know about, as we set up his new home. We can remain within our comfort zone, or we can expand upon it, and hopefully, achieve something beyond our limitations. Having the chance to set up a place to live for Josh will be the most important piece of this trip. However, I'm also excited about the chance to meet new people, eat in new restaurants, learn about a part of our nation with which I'm completely unfamiliar and to practice patience when things will, inevitably, not go as planned.

After Florida, my daughter and I are traveling to Del Mar, California, where we'll spend a week on the beach with family and friends. Although I was born in San Francisco, and spent much of my growing up life in Santa Barbara, I've never been to Del Mar. I've seen pictures. I've heard wonderful stories. I've seen scenic locations in movies. But, I've never actually been there myself. It has been too many years since my toes wriggled in the Pacific Ocean. It's been an eternity since I've had nothing to do but lie on a beach and soak up the sun. As much of an art lover as I am, it's felt like centuries since I've been immersed in an artists' community. I have missed eating fresh avocados, tasting perfect Mahi-Mahi and picking lemons right from the tree. I look forward to exploring every one of my senses in this enchanting, radiant Shangri-La.

Finally, after returning to the Northeast, I'll bring my daughter back to her beautiful prep school in western Massachusetts. After visiting family in New Hampshire, we'll move through our routine of setting up Caroline's room in record time. Despite our prodigious efforts and efficiency, there is something bittersweet about moving her into her dorm room each year. We have our systems down to a science now, and we pack our car in reverse order of how we plan on unloading. We know just what to bring in first, and can quickly create order from chaos. At the same time, with every poster I hang on the wall, or with each sweater I fold, I realize that my little girl is that much more independent from me. I am thrilled with her success and determination, and I feel blessed that her school is a perfect match. And yet, as I unpack the car, I'm letting go of her, item by item. Still, I have been fortunate to learn the area around her school very well. I have restaurants that I just love returning to, and people I enjoy seeing when I'm there. I feel a sense of loving community in a place that doesn't even 'belong' to me. It's always a joy to return, to see familiar faces and to feel at home in a place that is wonderfully welcoming.

Lucius Annaeus Seneca, the great Roman philosopher and dramatist, wrote "Travel and change of place new vigor to the mind." I have resolved to see the next month as a way to accomplish that idea. I hope to re-energize my spirit, to broaden my perspective and to find myself richly renewed in each unfamiliar place. I hope that I can discover something wonderful about every destination, and I hope that I will find myself enlightened by new locales. Ray Bradbury wrote, "Half the fun of the travel is the aesthetic of lostness." While I'd prefer not to get completely lost, I am excited about finding that tingly feeling of not being completely on the map all the time. I hope to accomplish my set tasks, to learn some new skills, and above all, to enjoy this lengthy amount of time out of my routine.

Beyond that, I'm open to new possibilities. I just hope I don't lose my luggage in the process.

Traveling Light

All of us have every day life lessons we hold dear from our parents. Many of us pay our bills, do our laundry or cook in the same methods our parents taught us, at least by example. I fold towels and make beds using the same technique as my mother. I wipe counters down in the same sweeping gestures, using a paper towel to catch the crumbs, the way my dad did. I have a filing method identical to theirs, though I have to admit that I'm not as meticulous in my administration skills. I answer the phone with the same cadence in my voice, and often use the same word choices they might have used. I have comparable sets of strengths and weaknesses. And yet, when it comes to packing a suitcase, I couldn't be 'less' their child. My mother and father had packing lightly down to a science. My father, never the most patient man when traveling and never one to waste time in any area of his life, insisted that they each bring one carry on bag to any destination. He was convinced that on no trip would anyone every need more than he could carry on a flight. Although Dad has since passed away, Mom continues in this admirable and simple packing method. I have never seen my mother look out of place, lacking in some way or otherwise unprepared on a journey. So, where did I go wrong?


I seem to have missed out on both the nature and nurture of this critical skill. However, my husband, though not a blood relation to my parents, seems to have inherited the trait. He teases me about the amount I will pack for one night away. I believe I have packed more for an overnight than he has packed for a week. Will he be less prepared than I am? Will he be missing a critical pair of shoes during his time away? It has yet to happen. I can fill a steamer trunk for a weekend away, and still not have exactly what I need, when I need it. I own one of the largest suitcases made, and have to be extremely careful as I pack it now, because of the new weight restrictions. I can easily stuff my Brontosaurus on wheels with shoes, skirts, sweaters, jewelry, back up shirts in case of spills (likely in my case) and outerwear to the point of bursting. I travel with a veritable pharmacy of allergy medicine, skin cream and Advil, never knowing what I will need when I need it. Knowing that I bring everything but the kitchen sink (though I admit I did pack the Quesadilla maker for a ski trip), I would be exceptionally well prepared for any eventuality. So, why is it that I have a suitcase full of everything, but nothing that works on my trips?


I have traveled to Arizona with the Winnebago bag filled to the point of worrying about the zipper busting open. On arrival, and for the remainder of my trip, I have worn clothes out of my mother's closet. I have gone to California to visit my cousin, confident that I would be right at home, and have needed her to run me to Macy's upon arrival. I have learned, by process of "What doesn't work" that I know exactly what I need to bring on a trip, and seem to gravitate towards packing the exact opposite. And yet, I'm working on my "travel survival without errors" artistry. My daughter, who has inherited the adroit equipment attribute, is teaching me. As I prepare for an upcoming week away, she is helping me put multiple, appropriate outfits together, using a minimal number of pieces. I'm learning that 'more' doesn't mean 'right', and that a suitcase filled with single wear pieces isn't helpful. I'm discovering that just because I own 28 pairs of shoes does mean that all 56 must travel with me like children. It's still very difficult for me to narrow down, make multi-tasking choices and be brutal in my assessment of needs. But, I'm trying to make a valiant effort to streamline this process to allow me to bring just one carry on bag. The reward at the end? No long wait at Carousel B, no missing luggage reports to fill out, and no more bruised shins from slamming the suitcase version of King Kong into my legs.


As I prepare for both my upcoming trip, as well as this blog piece, I realize how much of life is easier if we travel lightly. The more metaphorical baggage we insist on carrying along with us, the more weighed down we will be. As we tote our emotional loads, we become overwhelmed, exhausted and unprepared for the reality of our day's adventures, because we're so bogged down in the past. It's very difficult to let go of this baggage. For many of us, the burdens we bear are at the very heart of who we are. The pain in our lives, for good or bad, has shaped us into the people we are today. And yet, by continuing to drag that heavy, imaginary Samsonite case everywhere we go, we miss out on the chance to create new memories, experience different things and be open to new possibilities. We're so filled with the past, there is no room for the future.

My best advice is to find ways to let your heaviness of heart dissipate. Using meditation, prayer, exercise, journaling or just casting your cares on the wind, you can release them with full knowledge that you don't need carry them any longer. You can talk to friends, write articles or hike those troubles out. They're only weighing you down. They do not help you on your journey. They just take up space. Much like a suitcase filled with inappropriate clothing, a heart and mind packed with frustration, sorrow and bitterness will only make you feel worse about the way you travel through life.


As I attempt my vacation with just one carry on, I look ahead with a lightness in my heart and a spring in my step. Will I miss something? Probably. Will it be the end of the world? Absolutely not. I will learn to adjust and make do...and hopefully have a much easier time along the way.

Down by the riverside, I laid my burdens down, Now I'm traveling light, My spirit lifted high,I found my freedom now And I'm traveling light.... Billie Holliday