Notes From The Road - Traveling Solo

Something I get asked from time to time is, "How do you travel alone so much?". It typically strikes me as an odd question but I get it.  Being alone with one's thoughts as your only companion can be difficult especially if you identify with those thoughts.  This is a major reason I meditate.  I'll write about meditation in a blog post soon but, in the meantime, these are my thoughts on traveling solo:

My career was people oriented.  I did my best to create positive relationships with everyone with whom I worked.  I truly cared about the people I worked with even if it wasn't always reciprocated.  Perhaps I was naive.  I also worked with people who didn't share my passionate values about the welfare and education of young people and I didn't mind their enmity but was always hopeful that we could "see the light" together at some point.   Nonetheless, I was constantly interacting with others.  I spent my life, from kindergarten through retirement, around groups of people on a daily basis.  As a result, my retirement has been completely different and weird at times (thank God for my beautiful family who have endured my sadness and helped me). While I used to crave solitude I now seemingly have an over supply of it.  My first year or so of not working was terribly difficult for many reasons and I often felt lonely. 

That's no longer the case.

I have learned to cherish and appreciate this solitary life.  I'm blessed with an understanding and loving wife and family.  They accept my longing for the road and pursuit of beauty.  That unconditional love provides a firm foundation which gives me permission to do what I want (and need) to do with approval and encouragement from those who "get" me.   

My days, off the road, consist of reading, meditation, and personal growth activities - like walking, writing, watching films, following sports (USC, Liverpool FC & the Dodgers), learning Spanish, reading my twitter timeline, running errands, planning trips, an occasional motorcycle ride, and learning the guitar.  My reading hunger since I stopped working has been insatiable- I know I'll die before I read everything I want to read.  

My days on the road, since I have my books and my meditation, are rarely lonely.  I do, of course, enjoy traveling with others, in particular, my kids, family, and wife.  They are all fabulous, non complaining, funny, curious and grateful, adventurers.  Of course, they have their own business to attend to and my wife can't retire for a few more years.  I do, certainly, miss many of my friends, some of whom have died and others lost to the vestiges of time and vagaries of life. The worst part of traveling alone is wanting to share the singular experiences and the astonishing scenery.  I take pictures, lots of them, in my attempts to share. This website and blog is another effort to share with my friends and family the places I see and visit.  

There is, however, something peaceful and poignant about traveling solo.  I can reflect, muse, and do all things that I damn well want to do.  If I like a place I can stay- if I don't I can move on.  After spending many hours researching I go where I want to go and see what I'm curious about.  As the Buddhists suggest, I eat when I'm hungry and rest when I'm tired.  I read voraciously.  I listen to music and spend hours preparing a long playlist specifically designed to complement the journey.  I hike.  Occasionally I fish.  I write.  I meet strangers and share travel stories.  In the evening I make a nice dinner, perhaps start a fire, and watch the sunset.  Afterwards, I crawl into the back of the truck- get comfortable and listen to the local radio stations, contemplate the doings of the day, and plan my next day's activities.   I nod off while listening to the songs of the coyotes or the pure quiet that can only be found miles away from cities.

I do miss the people that I love.  I think about their qualities- the reasons that I miss them.  I remind myself that all things are temporary, I will die, and I must use this time in the most meaningful way possible.  I worked, for a lifetime, trying to change the world and make it a better place.  I attained a doctorate and rose to the top of my profession.  All those years of work, putting my career first, ironically didn't work out as planned.  Now, I try to live my life the right way and let the Universe decide if my life will impact others positively in any way.  I can only do my best for my family and friends and this beloved earth.  I try to be an example.  I choose to surrender the rest.

This precious time in my life, when I have the freedom to travel the West, is a profound gift.  Perhaps, some day, I'll connect with former friends, become a better guitar player, write beautiful stories and poems, work publicly to save the planet, demonstrably help the poor and needy, but, for now, I'll travel alone and contemplate, learn what I can, and be the best father, husband, friend and man I know how to be.  

This solitary travel helps me ground myself, clarify what's important, and find and explore my humanity.  I enjoy myself.  I experience a powerful spiritual connection to nature and, in particular, the Southwest.  It is my sacred home.

All I can truly offer the world, in the end, is my humanity and experience - if I can stay true to a life of empathy, compassion, tenderness, and love, then, perhaps, my life will be of some worth.  I can't think of anything else to do that has more meaning.

The one song I have listened to more than any other the last several years is "'Cross the Green Mountain" by Bob Dylan.  The lyrics resonate deeply in me- like a soft breeze of pure, cool air in the late desert afternoon.  

He expresses it perfectly:

Pride will vanish
And glory will rot
But virtue lives
And cannot be forgot
Let them say that I walked
In fair nature's light
And that I was loyal
To truth and to right

See you on the road, in fair nature's light, soon.  

I'm Utah bound in a few days.

Peace.