I began writing this letter many months ago, but our world has vastly changed since then, so I’m trying to piece together several thoughts that I want to share as a way to wrap up to 2023.
First, I want to express my gratitude to those of you who encouraged me to take this journey. I had a lot of fear around letting go of my house and everything that gave me a sense of safety. As we have all learned this past year, safety is an illusion. But fear is real. Fear holds us back from being true to ourselves, and limits our potential. Fear is the enemy of living fully. Fuck fear.
The photo below was taken at the Waitangi Treaty Grounds in northern New Zealand, and it symbolizes how I feel about fear.
To be clear, I do not see myself as the brave warrior who charges forth with conviction. No, I am more akin to the white bearded man to his left with an expression that says, “hmm. I’m not so sure about this…but I already sold my car.”
***
I first started writing this message back in July while I was in Flims, Switzerland. Flims is an old-world ski village in the Alps where the sounds of cow bells, church bells and clock towers echo off snow-capped mountains. Bells and chimes are a part of the culture here. They are the songs that filled the air as I meandered aimlessly down the small stretch of road you see below.
I walked down many paths in 2023 but few were as expansive as this vista. It stirred my soul and allowed me to ponder the questions I have thought about since childhood. Why do fools fall in love? Why do birds sing every time you are near? And, of course, how many roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?
Having found no answers, I took a train to Locarno, the Italian speaking, southern part of Switzerland where I spent several days swimming in the lake, reading, and indulging on pasta.
From Locarno, I headed to Sofia, Bulgaria where I roamed the city streets for hours every day, learning about communism, socialism, and people who seem to live in another time and place, but are really no different than any of us.
Of course, there are stories from Sofia as well. Many stories. But much has transpired since the summer, and I don’t want to turn this into a novel. For now, here is a brief list of things I’ve learned over the past year. Perhaps they will come in handy for you someday.
When traveling through Southeast Asia, carry small change for public restrooms. They are clean, but the old woman collecting payment for entry does not accept paper currency, credit cards or desperate pleas.
Some people do not smile when they pass you on the street. Smiling does not seem to be a natural reflex, especially in Eastern Europe. But if you take the initiative, most everyone will smile back, exposing broken teeth and warm hearts.
There is an overwhelming amount of poverty and hunger across our globe. Leaving leftover food on a table is not a sign of success. If you take the time to pack it up and offer the food to someone living on the street, they too, will likely offer you a smile, exposing broken teeth and warm hearts.
Our attitude actually changes the nature of reality.
Happiness cannot be found through searching or effort. While this year has been an incredible adventure, it was not a recipe for finding happiness. One final story on this topic…
As most of you know, my year of travel ended on August 2nd when I flew back to Philadelphia to be with my mother who was having hip surgery. As fate would have it, less than three months later, on October 22nd, mom passed away.
A few days later we buried my mother in a plot of land beside my father. I hadn’t been here since my father’s funeral, but here I was. And, here they were. Mom and Dad.
After the service, when everyone had left the cemetery, I stood there feeling very alone. Eventually, I began to sob. Then, after a few minutes, I wiped my eyes, and looked up to see one of the most spectacular autumn days. A deep blue sky, warm golden sun, and leaves of every imaginable color hanging from magnificent trees. It was perfect. I mean, of course, it would have been great if things had been different. If things had gone another way. But they weren’t different and things did not go another way. So, as I stood there looking at the ground where my parent’s bodies were buried and up at the incredible beauty all around me, I let go of my desire for things to be different and discovered a sense of deep, inner happiness. In this act of letting go I could feel sad, and simultaneously marvel at how everything was exactly as it should be. My weeping was not just because my parents were no longer here. It was because I realized that perfection is always glimpsed just as it fades away from us.
The point is, travel is fantastic, but it is not the panacea for happiness. Happiness is not found in another country. Regardless of where I was this year, whenever I was pushing things away or grasping for them, happiness remained elusive. The game, as I see it, is to get to the place where we can truly be present to this very moment, just as it is.
That is what I learned over and over again these past twelve months. Presence is where I find the greatest sense of joy, and staying here, being here now, is what I will continue to practice.
Thank you for continuing to encourage me, and allowing me to share this year of travel with you. May 2024 bring you closer to seeing the perfection of your life.
Neil
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