I returned home yesterday after being away for a week. Home these days is a lovely, peaceful place, and I am very lucky to live here. Now that I am retired, I can sit out on my porch and allow myself all the time I want to ponder life’s oddities.
One of these ponders: if I like my home so much, why did I go away on a motorcycle road trip for a week? Or any trip, for that matter?
Novelty is the spice of life
My mind periodically craves new challenges. I’m not a person who wants to climb a mountain or jump out of a perfectly good plane. I’ll leave that kind of madness for the people who have no sense of their own mortality.
But I do like to ‘shake the dust off’ once in a while by experiencing something different. In my day-to-day life such novelty can come from reading a book, playing a video game, or sitting on our porch. All of these things feed ideas into my mind: unique fantasy settings, the strange way a bird chirps, or the different ways the leaves turn each fall. Occasionally, though, I want to go somewhere else for a bit.
I’m also a person who strongly prefers solitude and quiet times. Boarding a plane and experiencing the security-theatre crowds to go to a beach covered in people is not going to appeal to me. Similarly I love the idea of touring historical locations, but then the reality hits: such places are crowded with people pushing and shoving to get their Instagram-ready picture standing next to whatever ancient artifact they can fit in the background. That sounds like a kind of nightmare to me. I still go to such places from time to time, but I always seek the moments when the crowd moves on to the next thing so I can enjoy the view in peace.
What options are left? Not many, really: but getting on my motorbike for a tour gets me away from the crowds for most of the trip. There are other options, like driving in a car or RVing. But the key things for me seems to be a change of scenery without having to navigate the mass of humanity.
Not everything I love is here
I love my wife, our cats, and even our goofy dog. The house and the area I live in are almost perfect for me. I’m happy in Castlegar and the Kootenays, more I think than I have been anywhere else in my life.
But my friends and family all live elsewhere. If I could drag them all to my neighbourhood that would be great, but they have their own ‘happy places’ and commitments that are somewhere else. So I have to leave my personal happy place to go see them from time to time. And if I can combine that with a nice road trip then that’s perfect.
I should say that it isn’t just people that encourage me to leave my nest. There are places and things I’d like to see: that ‘novelty’ thing I talked about earlier applies here.
A different perspective
When I go away from home I always gain some new thoughts, perhaps a new way of thinking. It might just be additional confirmation that my home in the Kootenays is my personal ‘best place’. Or I could learn about a place, person, or event that I wasn’t aware of. Regardless, I come away with new thoughts and memories that trigger different views on my personal reality.
On my latest trip I got to see how much my home town of Edmonton had changed in recent years. It was quite astonishing to me: new LRT lines, tons of expansion, changes to old landmarks: a constant series of ‘new’ things intermixed with the occasional recognizable bit. All of this is old hat to my friends and family who have lived in Edmonton while the changes were occurring, but it was quite a surprise to me.
Of course change is inevitable. But getting out and seeing that change first hand can alter the way I think about things. I can see the world just a bit differently than I did a couple of weeks ago.
Back home
I love my home, but getting away for a bit is sometimes exactly what I need. I have a few new thoughts in my head, perhaps a different appreciation for what I have, but also an improved sense of a little slice of the world that I travelled through.
As my Grandpa once said: “Git outside and get the stink blowed off of ya.”
Seeing new things slows down the passage of time. When I’m stuck in a routine, time all melts together but when I get outside of that, new memories are formed.
That’s a good point, Lou. As I age it seems like the years start to fly by in a steady drumbeat of routine if I’m not careful. To put it in computer terms: if all the days are almost the same, efficient but lossy compression will just store one day and a counter.
Getting out of my happy but repetitive routine seems to disrupt that compression and avoid collapsing all the days down into a rather blurry single image. I think I’ve taken this analogy about as far as it can go 😉
Heh, I love the compression analogy!
Reading this post reminded me of something a famous mathematician said in the 19th century or so: that his best ideas come from “the bed, the bath, the bridge, or the bus.” All places that are in some way suspended from the day to day busyness.
I’m with you regarding avoiding crowds, even before COVID. I like to vacation off the beaten path, go to the smaller museums and more obscure tourist destinations. Sure, I went to Notre Dame when I was in Paris, but the things that stand out in my mind are the intereiors of St Roch’s Church that was a block from my hotel, and the afternoon I spent hanging out on the Champs Elysee reading and eating crepes. 🙂
Your comment about spending time on the Champs-Elysee reading sounds about perfect to me, Gaudete. It is the quiet moments that stand out to me.
A few years back I went to the Grand Canyon wth my best friend and his family. The walk between viewpoints is a bit much so they have a bus system along the rim. After a few rides on that people-packed bus I was going slightly mad, so I told my friend I’d walk between the next couple of viewpoints. The crowd loaded onto the bus, and I was left almost alone to take in the grandeur. Then the quiet walk to the next viewpoint: it was almost magical. For me, that was the real way to see something like the Canyon.
But of course I can’t do that walk too many times before the bus and its air-conditioning, despite the crowds, starts to look mightily attractive again. I guess there is something to be said for balance…