There is only one constant in my life right now, movement. Let me catch you up to speed: after enjoying the shoreline of Portete, I bounced from Bua to Quito and the mountains south. I ventured to the Cuyabeno River deep in the Amazon. I traveled to Peru where I enjoyed a stunning trek through the Andes. Finally, I flew to Thailand, where I write to you from today. My time in the Amazon aside, I enjoyed all of this with my students and co-workers with Thinking Beyond Borders.
Even since being in Thailand, we’ve yet to stay put. We lingered for a long weekend in Chiang Mai celebrating the Loy Kratong festival where we floated boats of flowers down the river that surrounds the city. We spent a week at the Upland Holistic Development Project’s demonstration farm learning about their efforts while participating in many levels of food production on a farm. Two nights ago, we settled into home-stays with Thai farmers just outside Chiang Mai city.
All of this movement brings with it unique pleasures and challenges. As of late, I have been feeling the latter as my life lacks any resemblance of a routine. In our constant transitions, I’ve lost consistency and discipline in my reflective practices.
Let me be clear: there is incredible privilege in the itinerary I just laid out— in the life I live. There is a burden too, though. As my journey edges on, I feel a certain weariness to a life lived out of my backpack. Belongings scattered with dressers half-filled. Relationships partially formed as I breeze through cities, my hellos and goodbyes beginning to blur.
Yet, on the other side of this bladed edge is a constant opportunity to reset. On the eve of a new moon, I am choosing to lean into the opportunity of my vagabond path.
With our every move also comes a chance to check-in with myself about how the last round went. As I settle into life in the village of Ban Don Jiang and prepare to watch the sliver of the moon’s rebirth, it feels like the perfect time to remember what I want to give birth to within.
Huddled in the dining area of our hostel in Cusco, we set intentions for the next phase of our journey [Thailand]. Knowing that this unit brought with it a lot of travel, mine was to find— and spend time in— a sit-spot in every place we lived.
I’ve yet to realize this intention.
Tonight, I plan on changing this. I’ll sit below the blackened sky and sink into my own abyss. I’ll return to my practice of intentional living, remembering what tethers me to this pursuit.
Then, two weeks from now, I’ll settle into a new bed and another sit-spot. With that next move, I can look back on this phase of my journey. I can ask myself what worked and what is still being worked out. With this framing, it seems as if my constant movement is really not that different than life itself. Movement. Life. Growth. Regression. All with a hope that, in the cycles, we inch closer to a Whole.