I'm not sure who to blame. Maybe it's my old youth staff, for taking me to Mexico on mission trips 10 years ago. Maybe it's Whitworth and their JanTerm schedule, making adventures so convenient and educational. Maybe it's my love of photos and my desire to see with my own eyes what people have captures in pixels. Regardless, I keep hearing a voice that's telling me to go. Sometimes, it's just a quiet one, a sneaky one, that tempts me to just keep driving every time I get on I-90. East or west, it matters not. The voice just tells me to keep driving and see what I find. Other times, the voice booms in a loud voice, "Now paging Kathryn McIvor to the IcelandAir ticket desk. Kathryn McIvor to the IcelandAir ticket desk." Twice now I've yielded to that voice. My second major trip to Europe is a mere two months away, and I'm getting more and more excited every day.
In an effort to get ready to go to Europe, I'm trying to put my finger on why it is I like to travel so much. It seems a little strange. I hate being wrong. I avoid going to new restaurants or coffee shops here in Spokane because I'm afraid I won't be able to find the bin for your dirty dishes or what it means when the menu has two little stars next to an item's name. It has taken me nearly 25 years to figure out that I only need my toothbrush and change of clothes for a weekend out of town. Seriously- how can I be a traveler? And yet, I love it. I think part of the appeal is losing myself in something else. And I think the other part might be the unspoken hope that in hearing someone else's story and living into their world, I just might understand my own more clearly. Or maybe it's the chance that somewhere along the way I'll discover a place or a person or a career that is so totally me that I finally feel at home. I think it's probably a combination of all of these, and the freedom that comes when the only person I'm answering to is myself and my sense of adventure. I don't know. Maybe I'll never know.
One of the ideas I've rolled around in my brain this afternoon is that travel forces humility. Humility is one of my great struggles, I'm realizing, and traveling forces me to say "I don't know" and "I can't do it" and "I'm wrong" all the time. Which is incredibly good for me. Also, travel (as vacation) is usually an experience of grace- all of the lovely desserts and sites of a foreign land without the taxes and day-to-day troubles of plumbers and cell phone bills. And in some respects, that awakens me to the simple pleasures available to me here at home too. Since traveling to Germany last summer, I've found myself thinking much more about viewing Spokane and Portland as lands I'm visiting, and asking myself what I would do if I was a tourist here. What would I seek to understand about life here? What would I make sure to see, to eat, to visit? What are the things I'm deeply grateful for and would want to share with a visitor from far away? And as my friends and family spread out across the U.S. and I plan adventures to visit them, I find myself seeing these trips with the same eyes that I see this trip or the trip to Germany last summer. I also think about the people I meet here differently. While traveling, I'm intrigued by everybody I come across. What is their story? Where did they come from? Where are they going? Everything seems so much more important simply because it is different from where I live. The hidden truth is that everybody here has a story too. I'm just not interested because, on the surface, it seems that their story is too similar to mine to be of any importance. Travel has shown me that even the ordinary becomes miraculous when seen through the eyes of someone looking for a miracle.
Travel reminds me that the world is so much older than the state and country in which I live, and that the issues I sometimes view as distant are, in fact, pressing ones for most of the rest of the world. Traveling to developing countries reminds me that my "first world problems" are indeed ridiculous, and visiting other places our society has labeled "developed" reminds me of my responsibility to be a global citizen. For as long as I can remember, I've loved the feeling of understanding "the big picture." I'd rather climb a mountain and view the valley than sit alongside the stream in the valley. The first thing I do when editing a paper for someone is create an outline based on the text they've given me. I compulsively close every application running on my laptop so I can see the desktop picture and then, one by one, open the applications I need to use. I've made so many to-do lists in my lifetime that I need to personally reforest several acres of trees. In a sense, travel helps me see the big picture. Outside of my own society and culture, I can view them with a bit more objectivity. I can also see what's going on in the rest of world, which is so hard for me to do when I'm wrapped up in the drama of my Starbucks store or my weekend plans. As a stranger in a foreign country, I feel like I'm walking around looking at everything without the pressure of being a part of it. This is, of course, a false perception- of course I'm a part of it. But I love the feeling of seeing the big picture.
At this point, I need to conclude these thoughts. But I can't quite wrap my head around everything I've just said, so I think I'll leave it as it stands. I love traveling. My big-picture-loving self wants to know why. Maybe someday I'll find out, but for now, I'll just keep listening to the voice that tells me to "go".
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