An interesting response indeed, especially considering that the man had a British accent and was probably European himself. But what is this so-called ‘obligatory’ trip? It sounds to me like he is referring to a culture that thinks it is entitled to travel and that Europe is some form of entertainment to consume, a thing to do. It sounds like the ‘obligatory’ trip always arises out of the same intent, occurs in pretty much the same way, and has the same effect on everyone who does it. It sounds like the well-beaten path. And from his tone of voice, he judges this path and anyone who tours it. Well, I have to admit that I have certainly judged the occasional tourist. And the tourist industry is certainly beating the heck out of certain paths. So I agree with him in that regard, but I also sensed some jealousy after we had reached our destination and he said, “Well have fun in Europe...” [while I continue slaving away tied down to numerous commitments]. So while judging the well-beaten path and casting me in the stereotype box, the man also had that little dream of traveling—of freedom.
So where does the yearning for travel come from? And what is the true yearning, the one that lies in your heart and soul and being? And how does this get sabotaged by our culture, by the tourist industry, and by our story of what it means to be human? Because there is a tremendous difference between a cruise and a pilgrimage. And a tremendous difference between a tourist and a spiritual wanderer. This so-called Europe place is not a fixed entity, it is not a thing that delivers experiences. It is a living breathing world that each being can interact with in a unique way, collaborate with—or gloss over with stories and shallow eyes hidden behind camera lenses and souvenirs. Most importantly, everywhere you travel is real. No matter how long you spend developing your dreams of a place, or how much you plan how it is going to go, or how much you try to anticipate what the experience will be like, once you arrive, all of that must be abandoned in favor of the real thing. The places you have never been before are not dreams; they are real.
Sometimes when I am walking down a beautiful path somewhere close to home and I am vibrantly alive and the world is rich and beautiful—I pause, and while tuning into how real the world is, I say to myself, “this is how real it will be when I am walking down a path in Scotland.” And then I tune into my own state of being and say, “and this is how grounded and present I would like to be even while walking down trails deep into the unknown of a faraway land.”
I have noticed that when people plan a trip they tend to plan a lot more than just an itinerary. So often, they try to plan how they will actually experience the world—or rather—how they will react to the world. They want to get the most out of their trip and to not miss a thing. And they have been taught that they can control and obtain this through adequate preparation and anticipation. But this assumes that they can predetermine what it is that they ‘don’t want to miss’, which implies that they can predetermine what the place has to offer them. What a place has to offer you is not something you can read about in a guide book. Because it is never a one-sided equation. The old story will tell us that experiences are fixed objects—that a set of well-rehearsed actors can deliver the same experience to an audience night after night. In the new story, the story of interbeing, there is no distinction between an experience and an experiencer. This is because every experience is an exchange of gifts that is entirely unique to the relationship that facilitates the interaction. When a large group of people touring the well-beaten path all come away with the same sort of effect—it is because they were all experiencing the stories about the place, their pre-anticipated reactions to the experiences, and their own routines and habits of mind and lifestyle that they brought with them. It is almost as if they were never truly there. Talk about missing out. But this is what happens when you choose to keep your experiences within the realm of the known—the controllable realm.
To step into the unknown is to let go of control. But to let go of control is to open up to the gifts of the world.
We’re afraid of the unknown because the old story teaches us that control is the only way to achieve our goals, to get things done, to survive. This narrative is so deeply engrained in our culture that it has taken me down the rabbit hole over the past week as I explore how it relates to everything else. When you start questioning the narrative of control, you start questioning our very understandings of cause and effect—how does change come about in this world? Is it a result of mechanical levers and gears manipulated by a stand-alone will-power? And what is this so-called will-power; what is the life force that moves us? In the old story, we are taught that anything can be controlled if only we gather enough knowledge to apply the appropriate leverage. Through this, we are taught that the world is mechanical and unintelligent, and only we possess the magical ability of autonomous will-power. When we make decisions, they are a product of our separate selves, based entirely on our desires and goals, which in turn are a product of our separate selves, and it keeps spiraling inward with no immediate connection to the world that creates us. And when we achieve our goals by applying our will power, we are entitled to take full credit for the results. And with entitlement being the antithesis to gratitude, we are unable to truly enjoy anything that life gives us. This extremely simplified story of linear cause and effect is what keeps us at a distance from reality. There is no room to accept the gifts of the world or to collaborate with its genius.
And from our programs of control as we desperately try to change the world against all odds, it is hard to recognize just how crucial collaboration truly is. When everyone is competing for support, whoever seems to have the most control is the winner. How can we give that up in favor of miracles and magic that may or may not be given to us? Well, what if there is no other way except by miracle?
In the world of interbeing, I am discovering that there is no longer a distinction between a cause and an effect. Once again, it is an exchange that is entirely unique based on an infinite web of relationships. And in such a web, to follow a chain of cause and effect would take you in infinite loops with no beginning or end.
Last week, feeling resolved to let the writing be for a while, I had a friend drop by and we began feeling out these ideas together. He had just spent a good few hours training tomato vines at a local farm, and with all the hard work trying to control the tomatoes, it had dawned on him that perhaps the tomatoes were controlling him even more so. It seems that the more you try to control something, the more your actions are controlled by the nature of it. Who is the controller and who is the controlled? Perhaps simple linear cause and effect is a story that is only accurate in controlled science experiments. When you assemble the pieces and expose them to the world, the sum is far greater (and more mysterious) than the parts that we just spent ages analyzing in isolation.
In a few recent postings, Charles Eisenstein was discussing events that had occurred in his life with a certain level of mysterious synchronicity. His flight was canceled and a series of unlikely fortunate events landed him a smooth ride to his destination just in the nick of time. I’m sure most people would agree that sometimes things work out incredibly well, almost as if the events were a gift. But how and when does this happen?
“And how can we exploit this?” asks the power-hungry old-story ego. The answer: it is not possible to exploit or control. It is a gift. A gift is only a gift when freely given.
“Oh, but surely everything is aligning for me because I am ‘in the flow’, open and whole. So as long as I maintain this particular state of mind and arrangement of consciousness, everything will work out for me and my journey will be beautiful and blessed...”
Notice the word ‘because’. The old story runs deep and never is it more subtle than in the spiritual realm. The above response, while it admits that the world may operate in ways beyond the laws of conventional science (mysterious synchronicity), it still upholds the story that laws of some kind are what govern the world—which is to say that the world is mechanical and unintelligent.
Here’s how I see it. Harmony will never be caused by the actions of anyone. Harmony is the natural state of oneness. By aligning with the whole, you may join this harmony and things may work out beautifully—but this means two things. One, by aligning with the universe, you are now acting for the greater evolution of the whole and not for your private self. And two, you may experience the beautiful gifts of life, but they do not belong to you. Ownership requires that an object be separated from the whole. So to try to take any form of ownership over the beautiful gifts of life is to shatter the wholeness that sustains them.
Imagine that you are meditating and a beautiful blissful energy begins to flow through you as you reach a state of oneness. In the very instance that you separate yourself from the experience in order to say ‘hey look at me!’—the feeling fades away. I am sure that anyone who has experienced such wholeness know this well. (This truth is also distilled beautifully in the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.)
So how do we receive these gifts of life without fumbling them? How do we allow the world to enfold brilliantly around us? How do we experience the wonders of the world without trying to own them, thus shattering the wholeness that sustains them? Well, first we must realize that in the world of interbeing there is no such thing as ownership. No gift belongs to you—not your possessions, not your talents, not even your good looks. Rather, you are these things only when you embody them. And to embody your gift is to give your gift. A gift only exists so long as it continues to give—through you. A gift is a flow of energy with potential, momentum, and intelligence—with the intention to evolve the universe.
And so I think the fundamental yearning for travel is not to acquire experiences, to check things off a bucket list, and to take photographs to prove we’re an adventurous person. It is not about acquisition. It is about becoming. The fundamental yearning for travel is to venture beyond our structured world of known variables; to leave behind the habits and stories that keep us distanced from the world; and to experience the world more directly. Often, the yearning to travel comes to us when our managed world begins to feel too small—but only because we have narrowed and limited ourselves.
It is my intention to venture beyond my small, structured self; to not only see the landscapes of another world, but to see them with the eyes that are gifted to me by the landscape itself; and to integrate the gifts of travel into my being so that they may continue giving. If this is to truly be a journey of becoming, then I must become the places that I explore so that they may live through me.
The real journey here is in learning to listen. Deep grounded listening allows the clutter and insecurities of the mind to drain away into the Earth, and in the silence and stillness, all that remains is felt knowledge. And along with this groundedness and depth of listening will come the courage to trust what I discover. And from this vulnerability comes true collaboration.
And so I shall seek to integrate the world into myself, and to integrate myself into the world. That is interbeing. When everything is an exchange of gifts. By treating my travels with this reverence, I shall reconnect with the sacredness of the journey. And wherever that takes me, there I shall be.
Thanks for reading friends. I leave Victoria in less than three days, and I leave the country in less than three weeks. My last few weeks have been gorgeous, full of beautiful people, summery weather, and fun adventures. The people here are amazing and I shall have to visit Victoria one more time before I embark on my journeys. Travel preparations are falling into place and I will successfully keep my backpack very light and my heart even lighter. May the gifts flow freely. Namaste.