Tag Archives: society

Travel to Find You

The world is a mirror, and travel has this way of peeling back our hidden layers. It makes a lie out of some of the stories we’ve been telling ourselves, and it shines a light on good parts as yet undiscovered. It challenges, grows, expands and inspires us in ways that we never expected. We lose ourselves, and we find ourselves.

And then beyond the idea of world travel in this 3rd dimensional Earth existence, what if our souls really are trans-dimensional? And what if we live many lives, working out our lessons and perfecting our energy?

Perhaps we would live life in a completely different way, not so tied down to the ideas of money, success, material possessions. Perhaps life here would be about a completely different experience.

I believe we are moving towards that, we just need to let go of some old ideas…

Inspirational Travel Quotes:

“Not all those who wander are lost.” ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” ~ St. Augustine

“Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.” ~ Anita Desai

“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

“The most beautiful thing in the world is, of course, the world itself.” ~ Wallace Stevens

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” ~ Mark Twain

“We travel for romance, we travel for architecture, and we travel to be lost.” ~ Ray Bradbury

“Travel brings power and love back into your life.” ~ Ruminator

The Trip

We arrive
with no luggage
and leave with
none too,
so why do we
spend a lifetime
accumulating
mere things?

To prop up
our egos,
and relieve
our boredom,
to salve our
hurts, and
impress the
neighbors.

Within the
glorious potential
of the soul’s
quest, we lay
waste to what
could have been
for the next
new toy.

The kids
fight over the
treasures
left behind
by their parents,
thinking that the
having is some
kind of victory.

But the wounds
inflicted in the
fight for more
are baggage of
a different kind,
ones that can
cross over if we
don’t take care.

Traveling light
and loving well
are the real
accomplishments,
and as big as
they are, they
pack small
for the leaving.

Escape

Perhaps it’s just my lens because I’m a traveler at heart, but I think some of the best stories are rooted in travel. Of course, one person’s travel story is another person’s home story – and that is the essence of these journeys – discovering bits of one’s self in other cultures, and by extension, the call of our humanity.

The world’s in a pretty crazy place right now, and many of us are looking for calm places where we can heal and center ourselves. Judy Garland wistfully sang about it in Over the Rainbow, that place where “troubles melt like lemon drops”.

During an arm chair trip, I stumbled upon a wonderful story about just such a place of healing, created by a community of formerly abused African women. I’m looking forward to many more stories such as these, as the unfolding of a new humanity continues. It’s a saga of hope and possibilities, and beyond that, a confirmation that our best potential for the future lies in our ability to work together to achieve it.

Ghanaian photographer Paul Ninson on how he was able to visit the ‘village with no men’

Travel to Find You is a repost from August 16, 2022, Escape is a repost from July 6, 2023

The Trip is an excerpt from Soul Journey: The Poetry of Life

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Pieces of Me

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Who am I? Genetics, environment, and experience, they have all helped to shape me. I was born into this life with a touch of auburn in my hair from Dad, and long piano playing fingers from Mom.

But father, why did you not give me the flaming locks that run in your Scottish family? Why just a whisper of red for me? I have a fire inside that rages, and a call to blaze a path in this world. My Maori friend calls me “Fire”. Perhaps it is so my flame is evident only to those with eyes that see deeper?

And mother, why was I born with your hands and no musical talent? It felt cruel. It was a source of frustration to me that I failed at piano lessons. Perhaps it was so I could learn to see in myself what is, rather than what is not?

One summer afternoon, the girl I was lay on her bed daydreaming. I left my body and up I rose until I floated among the stars, tethered to Earth by a slender silver thread. I felt infinity for the first time, and I realized that I was so much more than they were telling me.

I am the artist in France, learning to express my soul on canvas. In this present life, I recall those lessons easily. Painting is like breathing to me. That other self walks in Monet’s garden, and I yearn to again. A photo of the Seine in the fog makes my heart ache with longing. It is a happy life.

I am the Japanese geisha in love with a powerful man. He loves me, but we cannot be together. Even now, pink cherry blossoms in spring make my heart both sing and weep, all at the same time. The lesson? I love and I am loved. In the end, the love is all that is important.

Sometimes when I walk along the sidewalk, I recognize a piece of myself in a stranger’s eyes. How can I say what it is exactly? It is fleeting, but I see it, and I feel it.

When I pass a beggar on the street, I attach a blessing to the coin I give. In my mind I say, “I know you, and I feel your pain. I have been where you are. It is a lesson you are learning, and it will all be okay.”

There is so much of me flooding in from the world, sometimes I feel overwhelmed by it. So I wash the dishes or sweep the floor, ordinary tasks that ground me in the here and now.

But I can never deny to myself, or to the world, that which I know to be true: I am stardust. I am Infinite. I am part of it All.

Pieces of Me is an excerpt from Becoming Bigger: In a world that wants to keep you small. Find it for sale in my bookstore here, or get this collection of life inspiration free when you subscribe for occasional newsletters here.

Birthright

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Paradox

The Trees Weep

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The willow weeps,
the pine trees moan,
all Nature’s feeling it,
deep to the bone.

Humans out of sync,
not hearing their hearts,
the soul of the Earth’s
being torn apart.

“Technology’s call
mesmerized them all,
and why can’t they see,
their hate is a wall?”

The mountains watch,
their strength eons old,
the oceans too have
seen centuries unfold.

They will endure, but
will humans be here?
“It seems they don’t care,
they don’t hold us dear.”

The eleventh hour
draws swiftly nigh,
trees watch us, crying,
will this be goodbye?

The Trees Weep is an excerpt from Humanity’s Lament: Poetry for Our Times. Currently this collection is a free download here.