Wander-envy

I wave my hat to all I meet,
And they wave back to me,
And blackbirds call so loud and sweet
From ev'ry green wood tree.

High overhead, the skylarks wing,
They never rest at home
But just like me, they love to sing,
As o'er the world we roam.

Oh, may I go a-wandering
Until the day I die!
Oh, may I always laugh and sing,
Beneath God's clear blue sky!
        -- Henri Rene, 1954

“I spent about 45 minutes looking at your web site last night.”

The words were spoken softly; the man seemed almost shy. But his eyes sought mine with an intensity that’s becoming familiar to me; it was a look of longing.

An aura of freedom and adventure seems to surround me in the eyes some of those I encounter on the road. They envy my life without roots and responsibilities. I am accountable to no one and burdened by none of the daily chores and other routines that characterize life lived in place.

More people than we may suspect have the vagabond spirit, the desire to be somewhere other than here. Eyes search the horizon, seeking, perhaps, a point of exit – the pathway to alternatives with unknown outcomes.

Eighty- and Ninety-Somethings have smilingly suggested that they’d like to come along with me. Their smiles reveal that they are not serious; their eyes say they wish they could be.

As the person who is actually living the life others are idealizing, I’m reminded a bit of the underpaid fellow seen scooping up elephant droppings at the end of the circus parade. Asked why he didn’t quit this demeaning job, he replied, “What, and give up show business?”

Of course, the reality of my adventures is a lot more interesting and pleasant than shoveling elephant dung; but it’s not as inviting as the idea of being on the road. This road trip fantasy, often glamorized in books and movies, is a powerful magnet; but reality rarely lives up to fictionalized accounts.

In literature, travel often serves both as a context and as a metaphor for life. Life, of course, is also marked by a beginning, uncertain encounters and an even more uncertain and mysterious ending.

As I wander, my focus seems to be divided between the constantly changing landscape and population that I encounter on the road and the ideas that are being awakened and enhanced by the travel experience.

I’m bombarded by new places and faces and, other than my few possessions and the links provided by technology, I am the only constant.

Many of my fondest memories relate to travel. Time on the road with loved ones leads to enhanced intimacy: relationships are isolated in the context of being away from familiar landscapes and routines.

Perhaps “getting away” presents the best opportunity to get in touch with oneself and with travel partners.

My life on the road – which is still in the early stages, provides a lot of stimulation; but it also provides time and opportunity for reflection.

Maybe this thing called “wanderlust” is really all about the desire to find oneself. Not knowing exactly where we are, it only makes sense to venture forth.