My husband and I recently returned from a remarkable nineteen day trip to Great Britain. We saw and did so much that the scenes continue to flash into my consciousness every day; especially as I try to remember my former life and reestablish a routine, guided by daily tasks and my calendar. One of the gifts of travel is that all those experiences are now part of me. I trust they will shape my life in amazing and surprising ways, if I am open to them.
Once, before a trip, a dear friend of mine sent me a quote from Marcel Proust, one of my favorite writers:
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.
I taped it in the front cover of my travel journal and I am currently experiencing its truth. Travel can reshape you! Having been gone for many days, I feel like I am back home, starting with a fresh slate. Yes, there are commitments coming up already, and I have to do the cooking and washing up myself again, but I feel my approach to these things is somewhat different, given all I have experienced this past month. I find that some of my “barriers” have gotten weaker or dissolved altogether. It seems almost as if God has given me a liminal moment to ponder whether or not I want to go back to my old self. I can see more clearly some of my former, negative attitudes, and my frets and worries. A new realization is dawning that I don’t have to go down to those old ruts again. I have a choice! There is another path!
We made it home on an early Friday evening. After the long flight to Chicago we had two bus rides until we finally arrived at home, sweet, home. Another favorite travel quote of mine proved its truth once again:
No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.
But here’s the possibility for new eyes: I don’t want to take home for granted! When you first walk back into your house after travel you see it with new eyes—and all its cozy little details delight you. My floral wingback chair, favorite books piled at my bedside, and my statue of St. Joseph faithfully keeping vigil on my dining room table—all were sources of immediate comfort.
Truly, it is worth it to “get out of Dodge” now and again. It expands our horizons and it deepens us inside too. It stretches our image of God—who is everywhere—and in all of Creation. Here is God, and there is God. Here I am trying my best to live this living faith…and there are all the people in a crowded London pub, or meeting friends in a Cotswolds tea shop eating cake, or in an ancient abbey turned village church—a handful of Sunday worshippers trying to do the same.
Jennifer Christ
