Misdirection

May 22, 2012

I often arrange my days so I can see their sunrises and sunsets; so I have seen more of them, and paused longer over them, than most people I know.  But in spite of the large number I’ve seen, I still have some favorites.

Without question, my most memorable sunrise was observed this past January as I stepped out on the balcony of a hotel room in Panama City, cup of coffee in hand, and watched a huge, red-golden sun rise out of the Pacific Ocean.  That’s right, the Pacific!

I was in one of those relatively rare locations in the world where the Pacific Ocean is located east of the Atlantic Ocean.

Nearby, great ocean-going ships were traveling east through the Panama Canal in order to reach their western destinations more efficiently.

And beneath the ocean surface, the trim tabs of the huge ships’ rudders were being turned to the left to help the ships steer right, and to the right to help the ships steer left.

Sometimes it is quicker or more economical or just more acceptable to go in one direction for awhile in order to reach an ultimate goal that’s in the opposite direction.

Simons Says

December 12, 2014

As an almost inveterate traveler – one who begins planning his next adventure to sweeten the sadness during the return trip of the current adventure – I took special note of and pleasure in this statement of Eric Simons in his book Darwin Slept Here:

“Optimism may be one of the biggest benefits of travel. When you spend all your time in a small area, trekking back and forth to work, getting all your news on the Internet, it’s easy to think the world is a lot worse off than it is. Then you get out in it, even for a short bit, and you get a summit view or find a friendly person who cares about nature just like you do, and then even when you go home, you remember: Hey, it’s not all bad. We’re really doing ok.”

When I see advertisements that promote travel as an escape, I cannot agree. For me, travel is a change from the daily routine, but it’s hardly an escape. In fact, I see more sights, hear more sounds, smell more scents and taste more flavors when I travel. I interact with countless more people – in airports, markets, parks, museums. But even moments of isolation – perhaps on a remote beach or trail – are somehow richer, more contemplative, when traveling.

It is not escape but engagement with new cultures and customs that travel causes; and it creates opportunities for personal reflection that routine obscures.

As Simons says, “Traveling connects us to the world and renews our capacity to wonder.”