Travelling far and wide doesn't necessarily mean travelling deep or high. My recent sojourn illustrated that to me very clearly. I met as many tourists as natives of the two lands I visited, and spoke with a number of them at length about where they'd been and where they were going and what they were doing and oh you must see this, you must see that, oh-you-really-must. These lists of been-theres and done-thats were just as tedious to me abroad as they are when I'm subjected to them at home. I freely admit that for a very long time I've been envious and bitter that I didn't have more recent overseas experiences to go on and on about, but even when I was sitting around the breakfast table in a foreign B&B with other travellers, I found myself either tuning-out or still feeling slightly bitter when the conversation inevitably went that way. (Establish
ed mental patterns are really hard to kick.) I'm not nearly as interested in people's outer lives as I am in what makes them tick. Always have been. So I guess I'm nosey, too.
I had intended to reinvent myself because I was going to places where no one knew me. Well, despite my flair for the dramatic, I didn't really reinvent myself. I didn't change or disguise myself in any way. In fact, I was far more open and vulnerable than I usually am. But that stands to reason, because I was a stranger travelling alone in two strange lands, and needed a lot of support and assistance from other strangers. That meant I was on my best behaviour almost all the time. I was a visitor and did my best to be a welcome one. I was polite, deferential, cheerful and quiet. I listened more than I talked, and almost always regretted when I spoke up. Not that I was offensive or full of myself - at least I hope I wasn't - but I know I look a lot better when my mouth is shut.
But for a couple of exceptions, I was treated with the same courtesy and cheer I sent out there. Funny how that works, isn't it? Anyway, I got back home and suddenly I didn't feel like the new, improved me that I was while I was vacating. Of course I do my best to be my best all the time, but it just doesn't feel the same. That's because the people I hang around here know me. I don't want to talk about where I've been or what I've done, I want to talk about how I may have changed or grown, about what I feel and think. I prefer talking about my inner journey, and any points of interest on my sojourn will only be mentioned if it's relative to discussing my inner life. Well, guess what? Not everyone wants to hear that, either. Thank goddess I've got this little web of mine to ruminate freely.
Of course I'm applying the life lessons I learned on my vacation to life back where everything is familiar. My friends may notice how relaxed and healthy I look, but it's hard to gauge if they perceive a deep, meaningful change in me, because maybe there isn't one. If I've evolved it would be too subtle for people to notice right away, anyway. That's the sort of thing that becomes apparent only after a while. So my over-weaning need for instant recognition won't be satisfied, and that's a good lesson, too.
All is not lost for immediate gratification, however. I've got a five week theatre gig coming up shortly, and the updated version of my neural programming will be presented to people who haven't had access to the old one. Cool. Others won't know about my newly acquired inner riches or how I got them. I won't be asked questions about where I've been or what I've seen. I'll just be the new, improved me. People won't be able to compare me to the slightly earlier version of myself. Talking less will be an even greater chall
enge because now I have more I want to say, more I wish to share.
More than ever I see that it is still a beautiful world and I shall spend the rest of my life doing my part to keep it that way. I was humbled by my journey abroad. I've always found humility an attractive feature. Maybe I can practise being humble now that I've spent some time being quiet and deferential somewhere far away. It's easier to do in a foreign land, because that's the most effective way to have your needs met.
Not only are my friends and family regarding and reacting to me as they always have, I'm doing the same with them. But this new chapter of my life is a complete, brand new book for the people I'll be working with at my upcoming gig. Neither they nor I will have any long-held opinions on who or what the other person is. It's tabula rasa all around, and I like it that way. I can test my theories on what makes a person truly interesting, and find out if I meet my own standards. All I have to do is remember to breathe deeply and listen more. Sounds like a plan.
- G. P.
ed mental patterns are really hard to kick.) I'm not nearly as interested in people's outer lives as I am in what makes them tick. Always have been. So I guess I'm nosey, too.I had intended to reinvent myself because I was going to places where no one knew me. Well, despite my flair for the dramatic, I didn't really reinvent myself. I didn't change or disguise myself in any way. In fact, I was far more open and vulnerable than I usually am. But that stands to reason, because I was a stranger travelling alone in two strange lands, and needed a lot of support and assistance from other strangers. That meant I was on my best behaviour almost all the time. I was a visitor and did my best to be a welcome one. I was polite, deferential, cheerful and quiet. I listened more than I talked, and almost always regretted when I spoke up. Not that I was offensive or full of myself - at least I hope I wasn't - but I know I look a lot better when my mouth is shut.
But for a couple of exceptions, I was treated with the same courtesy and cheer I sent out there. Funny how that works, isn't it? Anyway, I got back home and suddenly I didn't feel like the new, improved me that I was while I was vacating. Of course I do my best to be my best all the time, but it just doesn't feel the same. That's because the people I hang around here know me. I don't want to talk about where I've been or what I've done, I want to talk about how I may have changed or grown, about what I feel and think. I prefer talking about my inner journey, and any points of interest on my sojourn will only be mentioned if it's relative to discussing my inner life. Well, guess what? Not everyone wants to hear that, either. Thank goddess I've got this little web of mine to ruminate freely.
Of course I'm applying the life lessons I learned on my vacation to life back where everything is familiar. My friends may notice how relaxed and healthy I look, but it's hard to gauge if they perceive a deep, meaningful change in me, because maybe there isn't one. If I've evolved it would be too subtle for people to notice right away, anyway. That's the sort of thing that becomes apparent only after a while. So my over-weaning need for instant recognition won't be satisfied, and that's a good lesson, too.
All is not lost for immediate gratification, however. I've got a five week theatre gig coming up shortly, and the updated version of my neural programming will be presented to people who haven't had access to the old one. Cool. Others won't know about my newly acquired inner riches or how I got them. I won't be asked questions about where I've been or what I've seen. I'll just be the new, improved me. People won't be able to compare me to the slightly earlier version of myself. Talking less will be an even greater chall
enge because now I have more I want to say, more I wish to share.More than ever I see that it is still a beautiful world and I shall spend the rest of my life doing my part to keep it that way. I was humbled by my journey abroad. I've always found humility an attractive feature. Maybe I can practise being humble now that I've spent some time being quiet and deferential somewhere far away. It's easier to do in a foreign land, because that's the most effective way to have your needs met.
Not only are my friends and family regarding and reacting to me as they always have, I'm doing the same with them. But this new chapter of my life is a complete, brand new book for the people I'll be working with at my upcoming gig. Neither they nor I will have any long-held opinions on who or what the other person is. It's tabula rasa all around, and I like it that way. I can test my theories on what makes a person truly interesting, and find out if I meet my own standards. All I have to do is remember to breathe deeply and listen more. Sounds like a plan.
- G. P.
No comments:
Post a Comment