I have a confession; I’m a hypocrite. My greatest platform has been a complete lie. Please don’t blame me. It got out of control and before I knew it the lie was so big I had no way out with the exception of telling the truth.
From the beginning I railed against traveling while I’ve visited most of the U.S. states, Canada several times, Jamaica and Costa Rica. And here I am pounding out a post while traveling and sitting at the kitchen table of my first Airbnb stay. For a guy who whines so much about traveling I certainly do a lot of it.
Traveling has certainly been a love/hate relationship for me. The anxiety is almost overwhelming (sometimes it is and I collapse). This post will publish Thursday and I’m writing Tuesday night and the clock claims the night is closing in on 10:30. For several weeks leading up to FinCon the anxiety increased. Sleep turned fitful, my thought disorganized. I dreaded the flight. Most of all I dreaded all the people. Farm boys from the backwoods of Nowhere, Wisconsin never truly adjust when pushed into civilization. The savage is always there.
It is in this fog of insanity I realized I travel too damn much, but also realized I travel to places even the most seasoned travelers rarely go.
Give Me Space
Wanderlust is something I understand. I fear the crowds, the bright lights. The newness will heighten my senses activating the fight or flight reflex. Yet this is still a lie!
There is a form of traveling I lust for ceaselessly. When I see people driving toward early retirement so they can travel the world I roll my eyes. Who in their right mind would want to do that? There is nothing more painful I can think of. And still, I can’t stop the deceit.
I better clarify. Many Most people have a strong desire to travel, to see new places, meet new people, enjoy new experiences. There is something in the DNA of humans to want to crawl to the horizon and beyond. From the very beginning when our ancestors wandered out of Africa to our post-modern times where eyes are turned glistening to the moon, Mars and the stars beyond, there has been a powerful urge in humans to explore. The chance to grow and learn is an irresistible pull.
But people have traveling all wrong so they miss the one place more important to visit than any other.
The mistake is all about space. The desire to travel is never satiated because you travel spatially. The mode of transportation is plane, train, boat, car and even bike and hoof. Whatever it takes to get from here to the other side of the hill.
I bet you make the same mistake. You travel from here to there and no more. A trip to Europe or some other continent holds the promise of exciting new cultures to sip from. And it works. Most people are awesome and love communicating with people from far away. They share as you share; learn as you learn.
There are serious limits to spatial travel. You can only see places where the transportation can take you. Mars is off the docket. . . for now. Anther serious limit to spatial travel is time. You need more than an afternoon to tour Africa. We can discuss cost, but you already understand that part.
This is where we entered our story. My lie isn’t exactly about spatial travel. While I’ve imbibed often enough, I believe my personal constitution absolves me from serious travel crime. Yes, I have gallivanted around a section of the globe relatively close to the home farm, but gallivant I have.
I still abhor travel in the traditional sense. The anxiety is so powerful and overwhelming I’m surprised I can function at all in those situations. You can’t imagine what I see in my mind as I struggle through yet another bout of time away from familiar surroundings. (The lights are not as pretty as I pretend.)
But this is where truth ends. In a bad year I leave the yard three times. In a good year I cross the road a mere once. And then there are the times where I’m in heaven as Pinky (my cat) notices I stay snuggled close for over a year uninterrupted. But just because my tail is planted firmly in the couch doesn’t mean I’m not traveling. In fact, it’s a journey too few ever take. Seasoned world travelers wander the planet for decades and never see the places or people I’ve seen.
You see, I travel in time.
I know, I know. Your favorite accountant has gone and flipped his lid. (I am writing this while traveling. Remember the Airbnb kitchen table.)
Extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof and I’m prepared to provide it. (If I didn’t it would be a really stupid post. (You in the back: sit down. If I wanted your opinion I would have asked.))
The best way for me to prove I time travel is to explain the people and places I visit.
There are so many stories; where to begin. I time travel so much, see so many wondrous place, enjoy intelligent conversation with so many great minds I sometimes forget how incredibly lucky I am to experience such travel. I may as well spill it all.
It may be hard to believe, but I was there when they spiked Christ to the cross. I knelt with His mother before the cross and comforted her. I was there when Socrates drank the hemlock and when Plato left the city and the school he founded “lest Athens sin against philosophy twice.”
When Voltaire exposed the government, religion, science and philosophy with the biting satire of Candide and when Rousseau fomented revolution I was there. Just another trip down Memory Lane. I warned Voltaire his humor would not be appreciated for centuries when comedians were allowed to live (usually) after exposing the hypocrisy of said institutions.
When the Dark Ages descended over Europe and the Black Death spread fear I was there. I felt their pain, felt their fear. When the light of Renaissance flickered after the long night I experienced the enlightenment first hand. I was there when the Renaissance flourished into an Age of Reason and a Reformation in Christianity.
I saw all these things and more. And you can travel to these places, too! All you need is a book.
Space and Time
Plenty can be said for spatial travel. There is a thrill of newness in the act even if a crazy accountant in the room suffers emotional distress while engaged in the process. There are serious and great benefits from travel. Spatial travel brings people together as the world shrinks into a single community.
Books are awesome, of course. Some of the flavor is lost in the mists of time unfortunately. Plato and I had plenty to talk about, but the people around him are relatively unknown or completely forgotten. It was also a one-sided conversation. How I would love to have asked questions. All but the major players are relegated into oblivion. There story is untold, lost in the sands of history.
The filter of time determines which stories we are exposed to. Aristotle was almost lost to us in the Dark Ages. When the Library of Alexandria burned much knowledge and understanding was irrevocably destroyed. Many stories died that day forever. If ever there was a genocide, it was that day. Many great minds gasped their last breath that day. If I could have been there. But, alas, time travel doesn’t allow changes to the time stream.
Time travel is important! It is the great men and women of the past who gave us our chance at greatness today. We build on the shoulders of giants.
To truly experience a culture and place while spatially traveling you need to understand the foundation that brought that place and culture to the current condition. The only way to do that is with time travel, with a book.
When I express my issues with travel I’m asked if I hate the travel (airport, car, et cetera) or actually being there. Yes.
Not funny, I know. The traveling part of travel is the worst, of course. The exhausting nature of travel is also a part and so is being away from home.
The people are always incredible. I still prefer a book because I can absorb at my pace and see so much more of the world faster when I can avoid the wasted time of airports. I was born out of my time in some ways. Regardless, I still feel the pull of the horizon. I’m human! What did you expect?
It is getting late as I finish this post. The Airbnb hosts were traveling (surprise!) so they had Rand and Joy step in to run control on the accountant clan visiting. We had some deep and interesting conversations. (Airbnb beats a hotel by a gazzillion miles. I’m sold. Future travel will be Airbnb whenever possible.)
I was interrupted as I completed the first paragraph of this post by Rand and Joy. I explained what I planned to write (it turned out slightly different than I expected; a common occurrence in writing) when Joy lit up. Her eyes flashed wide as she realized why all the stuff I said sounded so familiar. A friend of hers has been sending her links to this blog when she found good stuff. (My guess is she didn’t need a lot of time with that kind of filter.)
Joy has been reading this blog for about two years. Rand checked it out earlier today. (Stalker!) He only mentioned one post: my obituary. I understand. No, really!
What I find amazing is that the population in the U.S. tips north of 300 million and a couple hundred thousand people visit this blog every year at least once and somehow I ended up in an Airbnb with a reader. How cool is that?
I am amazed and also humbled. You, kind readers, are lost in the glare when I write. I know you’re there, but I can’t see you or feed off your reactions as a stage actor would.
Then it all turns real when a reader appears in an unexpected place. I expect a few people to know of my work at FinCon. But out on the street I have no illusions of my celebrity. I’m a bit player on a historical stage. In short, I was Plato’s water boy, forgotten in time.
After 1,500 words I’ve realized how wrong my original supposition has been. As much as I enjoy traveling in time with armloads of books, it is meaningless unless I also travel spatially. Both are intricately connected. One does not exist without the other.
A mere 1,500 words and I discovered I MUST travel in time AND space.
Anxiety will always be a problem. Damn anxiety. They have pills for that now.
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