Making life a living scrapbook
How an old travel photo reminded me of how I want to live.
Good Monday Morning, Messy Middlers.
I am sitting in my living room/kitchen/dining room (thanks Seattle for the whack rent prices) looking out at my beautiful view of the 7-11 against a gorgeous grey and cloudy sky. A pigeon poops from the cell phone lines outside my window. The metro bus driver leans against a lamppost, smoking another cigarette.
If I close my eyes, I can picture a different view.
Giggling children running under a hot summer sky. A sticky heat that pours in gently through the window like a blanket. An invitation to slip off my sandals and walk barefoot outside just to feel the earth warm against the soles of my feet. Tiny rickshaws parked haphazardly along the sidewalk. Men smoking cigarettes and peeling mangoes between drags. Pigeons line the burnt orange roof tilings, but somehow their presence is comforting and not a threat to the bustle below. Everything flows accordingly, here.
Yesterday I went on a deep dive through old Facebook photo albums.
I was on the hunt for film photos from my first backpacking trip that I took with my cousin in 2011. A recent Hinge date asked me for travel tips for China and Thailand, and though 13 years have passed since I landed in Hong Kong as a 22- -years-old, I can still smell the hot streets and taste the spicy tofu.
As I pulled memories from the archives my heart started to feel cold. The way it does when a movie makes me cry or when I hear a song I've promised to never play again. Am I having, a *feeling?*
The last year I've lost touch with my emotions.
Not in a way where I'm apathetic or cold (at least, I hope not). But in a way where the thought of my ex being with someone else doesn't make me immediately sad. In a way where rejection from a potential partner hurts but doesn't send me down a spiral. In a way where in order to really feel--and I mean viscerally, full body, heart and soul feel--I have to sit inside, with, and surrounded by the thing that might stir the feeling.
And yet, when I looked at a 13-year-old photo of me sitting bundled up in the valleys of the himalayas, sunburnt and likely freezing, surrounded by prayer wheels and flags and burning sunlight, smiling like I'd just seen the love of my life turn the corner, I wept. I felt without trying, without seeping myself in the moment. I felt everything.
I felt pride knowing this girl had worked hard to save money to travel to a place she had dreamed of seeing. I felt gratitude that I was able to see such beauty in my lifetime. I felt love for her--a version of me who could have never dreamed who or where I'd be now as a 35-year-old woman. I felt longing and awe and ecstasy knowing I have truly lived my life as I wanted to--so that one day I could look back and say "I did it all. I did everything I could. I loved as much as I was able, saw as many places as I could afford to, and learned all I could absorb. I truly, truly lived.”
Years have passed since I have traveled with others.
My last several trips have been solo in an effort to rediscover myself (and life) post-divorce. And while solo-travel has brought me immense joy and self-discovery, there is something different about experiencing such beauty with others. To be able to sit in the mountains or facing a historical monument and turn to the side and say, "isn't this spectacular?"
This summer I'm leading a group trip to Bali in hopes of channeling the experience of seeing the world in the presence of others.
In hopes of carving out time and space in your lives to look back on a decade from now with the same pride, awe, and gratitude.
If you're like me at all--if you want to look back on your life one day like a scrapbook full of adventures and people and places that changed you--if you believe life is here for us to experience and try and make mistakes and get back up--if you close your eyes when you look out your own window and picture different places--come with me.
My Bali trip is this August, and I'd love for you to join us.
Learn more about the trip here (spots are filling up fast, and you only need to make a 25% deposit to secure your spot).
It is my hope that this life of ours continues to hold memories that spark feeling, and that we get to share those sparks together.
All my love,
Rachel
P.S. If you have any questions about this trip, feel free to drop them in the comments :)
Songs we’ve promised not to play anymore 🥲
What a wonderful idea to organize a group trip to Bali, Rachel! Yes, solo trips can be wonderful and healing, and post-divorce, I will be doing some of those, too. I remember my pre-divorce solo road trip around the Big Island of Hawaii (when I had the knowing I would want a divorce but was still several months away from acting on it) and how it was just the kind of self-discovery I needed at that juncture. But there is such joy, as you say, in experiencing beauty with others. It is why I look forward to walking the Camino de Santiago with my oldest daughter this September (and hopefully joined by my youngest daughter for part of the way). Keep traveling! It is one of the greatest joys of my life.