There was a time when I thought of the destination in life as the journey to get there. I realized that it didn’t matter where I was going it was the journey there that mattered.
I like the thought that imagery brings: it makes you experience and appreciate each moment as it comes to you. The journey is the moments in life that you go through as you head to the ultimate destination.
I still like that image.
In fact, it was last summer that I decided I wanted to start a blog about that very thing. I decided to take a journey. I spent the time to map out the journey I would take. I purposely planned the places I would visit along the way. It was going to be great. I planned a few stops where I would actually see people, but for the most part, I was going to be alone. I was going to be experiencing the journey. For one week and 3,000 miles, I would be experiencing the journey.
With the plan of sharing this incredible journey I was planning on taking, I took tons of pictures. I mentally captured each moment with the thought of sharing those moments. As I drove, I thought about how the moments I was experiencing were going to impact those at home who I was writing to.
And for the first few days, my journey was exactly that. I was even able to keep up with my blogging…
And then the strangest thing happened. After driving all day long and pulling into my designated stops late in the evening, I didn’t have the energy to blog. I didn’t even have the energy to enjoy a good portion of my journey. In fact, by the time I reached the halfway point, I was tired of driving. In fact, I began to dread it. I lost the joy of the experience, which meant that most of the places I planned to stop at, I drove past. All I wanted was to get where I was going.
I would drive past billboards and think about how interesting the place 30 miles ahead would be. I would think about how much I might enjoy taking a break there. And then by the time 30 miles had past, I didn’t want to stop anymore. I didn’t want to lose the momentum in getting there, to my destination for the night. The journey began to lose its meaning for me. There really wasn’t anyone at home waiting on my nightly posts. I was alone.
After I was halfway through my journey, at the locations I was looking forward to visiting before I left, I had to force myself to stop. While I was at those locations, the crowds got to me. Instead of taking the simple pleasure from the location that all the other visitors enjoyed, I was bothered by the noise. I was bothered by their lack of regard for the location. I was angered that they had turned it into such a “tourist trap.” There wasn’t beauty there for me. And so I would move on, grumpier for the journey than I had been before.
I began to miss the few friends that I had. I thought about how this trip would have been different if my mom had joined me. While before I left, I was looking forward to experiencing this journey on my own. I was looking forward to doing whatever I wanted to; going where ever I wanted to.
I realized that having someone with me, even if they are annoying or have different ideas for fun than I do, actually makes the trip more interesting. You get to experience things, sometimes for the first time, through their eyes. They make you do things that you might not be motivated to do if on your own. I began to wonder what places I might have visited if I weren’t on my own.
It didn’t take me too long to see that it wasn’t just the destination or the journey that made life exciting. It was the combination of the two. It was the people that are met along the way. It’s those that come with you; and those who are waiting at home for you. There really is truth to the saying, “no man is an island.”
We were created to be relational beings. Never have I understood that more than lately. I was halfway there in understanding this crucial truth on the journey I took last summer. The past six months…. Well, that will take more than just one post to get into.
I like the thought that imagery brings: it makes you experience and appreciate each moment as it comes to you. The journey is the moments in life that you go through as you head to the ultimate destination.
I still like that image.
In fact, it was last summer that I decided I wanted to start a blog about that very thing. I decided to take a journey. I spent the time to map out the journey I would take. I purposely planned the places I would visit along the way. It was going to be great. I planned a few stops where I would actually see people, but for the most part, I was going to be alone. I was going to be experiencing the journey. For one week and 3,000 miles, I would be experiencing the journey.
With the plan of sharing this incredible journey I was planning on taking, I took tons of pictures. I mentally captured each moment with the thought of sharing those moments. As I drove, I thought about how the moments I was experiencing were going to impact those at home who I was writing to.
And for the first few days, my journey was exactly that. I was even able to keep up with my blogging…
And then the strangest thing happened. After driving all day long and pulling into my designated stops late in the evening, I didn’t have the energy to blog. I didn’t even have the energy to enjoy a good portion of my journey. In fact, by the time I reached the halfway point, I was tired of driving. In fact, I began to dread it. I lost the joy of the experience, which meant that most of the places I planned to stop at, I drove past. All I wanted was to get where I was going.
I would drive past billboards and think about how interesting the place 30 miles ahead would be. I would think about how much I might enjoy taking a break there. And then by the time 30 miles had past, I didn’t want to stop anymore. I didn’t want to lose the momentum in getting there, to my destination for the night. The journey began to lose its meaning for me. There really wasn’t anyone at home waiting on my nightly posts. I was alone.
After I was halfway through my journey, at the locations I was looking forward to visiting before I left, I had to force myself to stop. While I was at those locations, the crowds got to me. Instead of taking the simple pleasure from the location that all the other visitors enjoyed, I was bothered by the noise. I was bothered by their lack of regard for the location. I was angered that they had turned it into such a “tourist trap.” There wasn’t beauty there for me. And so I would move on, grumpier for the journey than I had been before.
I began to miss the few friends that I had. I thought about how this trip would have been different if my mom had joined me. While before I left, I was looking forward to experiencing this journey on my own. I was looking forward to doing whatever I wanted to; going where ever I wanted to.
I realized that having someone with me, even if they are annoying or have different ideas for fun than I do, actually makes the trip more interesting. You get to experience things, sometimes for the first time, through their eyes. They make you do things that you might not be motivated to do if on your own. I began to wonder what places I might have visited if I weren’t on my own.
It didn’t take me too long to see that it wasn’t just the destination or the journey that made life exciting. It was the combination of the two. It was the people that are met along the way. It’s those that come with you; and those who are waiting at home for you. There really is truth to the saying, “no man is an island.”
We were created to be relational beings. Never have I understood that more than lately. I was halfway there in understanding this crucial truth on the journey I took last summer. The past six months…. Well, that will take more than just one post to get into.
No comments:
Post a Comment