I Feel a Tenderness in My Soul
A piece about traveling with integrity and the symptoms of fleeting connections
It is 9:10pm and I am in the passenger seat of my semi-beat-up blueish gray Subaru Crosstrek. The head of my slobbery 110-pound dog is hanging over my seat, and he is breathing down my neck.
I squint to read the words scribbled in my notebook. It is barely legible, but the sentiments are there: reflections on what it feels like to be in constant motion, and to be basking in the high of rich human connections - however fleeting.
Currently, my husband and I are on the final stretch of a 9-hour journey from the San Francisco Bay Area to Bandon, Oregon - a town perched on the south shore of the Coquille River, known for its cheese and cranberry production.
The view is unreal: dense redwood forests to our right and tall crashing waves to our left. Ahead of us, a long open road stretches into the horizon.
A sunset descends, coloring the sky with a pink-ish orange hue.
These are the moments I dream about: I imagine my heart and mind to be in absolute zen and my entire being to be synched with the rhythms of nature.
Instead, I feel incredibly restless, almost as if my body is a factory and a zillion little microscopic creatures are hard at work in my bloodstream - buzzing about. The velocity of my entire soul is palpable. I am not at peace. Not at all.
The truth is: I have spent little time at home this past month, trading my daily routine for new experiences - solo and with friends - across multiple continents and cities.
Even as I write this, I am crossing a state border.
While it has been enlivening, enriching, immersive, and beyond exhilarating, it has also left me in a questioning state and a little anxious. I think about whether the thrill of being in new places and meeting new people will make me ungrateful for all the beauty and wonders that await me at home. I begin to doubt my own abilities and conviction to return to a “normal” life after experiencing a nomadic one. I feel a distance with my nearby friends as I lurk in the group chat but find myself constantly rescheduling and opting out of activities. I also dread the empty calendar: the one where a whole month’s schedule is barren of excursions and novel commitments.
As I ponder these waves of thoughts, my nervous system undergoes its own recalibration too: it now yearns to take steps in new directions (both mentally and physically), craves solitude during moments when it used to seek companionship, and feel solitude and freedom of truly beating to its own drum.
More than ever, it is confident and bold.
And…How could it not (when it has experienced true bliss - over and over - in such a short amount of time)?
Think: a full 24 hours touring an Indonesian island and quite literally laughing and sleeping under the stars with new friends - telling love stories, reciting poems, and dancing - while witnessing the sky go from sunrise, to sunset, to sunrise again…
These moments of joy and human connection have been sealed in my soul.
So, after just a few weeks, I can say that solo travel and leading a more nomadic lifestyle is changing me. And, I cannot help but scrutinize this new version of me - my thoughts, desires, integrity, and behaviors.
“Do we like her?”
The rational side of my brain chimes in: What do you have to show for this journey? Are there any negative externalities? Are you authentic to your values? Do you wander with care and respect? Do you contribute to the harmony of communities you visit? And your community back home?
As I drift my pen onto yet another page, I reflect on what it means to me (in this moment) to travel with integrity:
Lead with your heart and genuine love for the human experience: Show gratitude to the people and lands you visit. Instead of going to landmarks to check off boxes, linger longer, take the side streets, and have tea with the locals who have life stories you can only imagine. While a ‘travel bucket list” might be a fun concept, what is truly immeasurable is the wholeness inside of you that expands with every new encounter.
View travel and new experiences as an extension and an opportunity to experiment as your true self: Instead of leaning into the anonymity of travel as a “free pass” to be someone else, try to act from your core being - even when you are trying something new. To be in a judgement-free zone is both freeing and a responsibility.
Understand that your actions as a visitor have lasting and permanent impacts on the people who call the place ‘home’: To be in ‘travel mode’ often means ridding one of all worldly responsibilities. However, remember that those who steward a given land live this life everyday. Be thoughtful when your decisions affect their life, and think about what lasting impact they may experience when you eventually depart.
Learn the language and culture: Do not enter a new country or sub-geography without attempting the language and reading at least a Google article on its origin story and culture. To invest anything less is rude. And (please oh please), respect the local way of life (including household practices, cuisine, and belief systems).
Have gratitude for your home life and all the resources and parts of you that enable these wonderful new discoveries: Appreciate the abundance in your life, and resist the newness of travel tempting you away from all the blessings you already enjoy.
In conclusion, as I continue to discover myself in this new chapter of life and business, I recognize that change is inevitable. Thus, to observe that change from a place of gratitude, respect, and expansiveness, is what will center me while still enabling me to boldly expand.
And, to all the readers who are nomads themselves, or have different experiences to share regarding travel and identity, please comment below. I would love to witness your journey.
With that, thanks for reading, and happy community-gathering!
See you on the next page.
Sounds like you’re having a journey not only to foreign lands but also a journey within yourself - Love this!! ❤️❤️