I’m not sure how to measure the stretch of time from one January to the next, other than to notice the strangeness that all of us are alive, right now, having endured immense difficulty in the last several years, and are looking ahead to immense possibilities before us.
Without years of graduate school to mark the passage of time (Aaron and I both finished our degrees in 2020), we lean deeper into the actual content that fills our days. I spent the entirety of 2021 and 2022 nurturing and leading our new nonprofit, Brio. As we expanded and deepened our work with partners around the world, I have been honored to witness the joy and surprise that meaningful impact can bring. Real, transformative change. Something far more tangible than expected.
The year I finally made it to India. Twice.
I wrote about this in my India travel diary, but our two visits in 2022— one in April, the other in October— marked moments I’ve dreamt of for years. The colors, artistry, cuisine, landscapes, and local community were more extraordinary than I could have imagined. Traveling to India is challenging, not least due to the long journey and many hours of jet lag, but every time I boarded a plane to leave I was ready to plan another visit.
There are those who say that to claim to understand India is to be naive. Its vastness and complexity refuse categorization or comprehension, they say. However, I would add that what I gathered from our collective nearly 6 weeks of being in the country, and seeing a small slice of it, began to fill in some of the gaps of my worldview. I’ve traveled far more extensively in Europe and East Asia, only starting to get a glimpse of the places in between more recently. Now that we have traveled to Uzbekistan (2020), Istanbul (twice) and India this year, the region bridging East and West with its many treasures is taking shape and substance in my mind. If nothing else, our two visits to India this year made me all the more curious about this vast swath of the world— the stories and flavors it holds.
Travel has changed, and so have we.
Over the past several years, the pandemic made international travel more challenging in numerous ways. It is sometimes hard to believe that even as we were in Basque Country, Spain, in early June 2022, there was still a requirement to show a negative Covid test before returning to the United States. The additional hardship didn’t stop us from going places— it just made everything a bit more nerve-wracking.
By grace, luck, and abundance of precaution, Aaron and I have somehow managed to avoid catching Covid (to our knowledge) and generally have stayed healthy since 2020. I think this reflects how we have had the privilege to protect our health, especially as we live in closer proximity with older family members and immuno-suppressed loved ones. As I get older myself, I’ve realized that health is no longer something I can take for granted, and I’m more diligent about taking care of myself even than I was a few years ago.
But the health consideration is just part of it. Travel simply is exhilirating and exhuasting. Between October 2021 and June 2022, we traveled long distances every 2 months. In 2022 alone, we traveled to Mexico, India, Spain, India again, and Turkey, all while working full-time (the travel was mostly work-related), renovating a house, and in general trying to build community at home.
Traveling so often makes it feel like we are always coming back from somewhere or getting ready to go somewhere. I was frequently jet-lagged this year because of how far away we went. I hardly have a routine (and much of that has to do with our temporary move out of our house, my weird international work schedule, and other things). So as much as travel makes me happy like almost nothing else does— and it is SO worth it to meet our colleagues and explore new places— it also takes real toll on my well-being.
Even several years ago, my approach to travel was beginning to shift. I plan to see fewer things. I let my body rest. I pay for upgrades when possible to be a bit more comfortable. I do not overeat (as tempting as it is). And I explore like nobody is watching. Travel does not need to be performative, it can simply be meaningful.
Putting down local roots – literally
What’s the opposite of traveling all the time? It might be cultivating vegetables from seedlings, befriending local farmers at the market, cooking seasonally, and watching the sunset over the hills with local friends. We did that also in 2022.
Furthermore, we’ve started the renovation of a small farmhouse, which has been a whole other adventure. If you’ve ever had the privilege of owning and renovating a home, you know it’s a very special kind of self-induced misery. To be fair, our renovation has gone relatively smoothly, but to picture ourselves rooted in a place hopefully for decades is one of the most ironic things to do while boarding an international flight.
And I stuck my hand in the literal soil this year. We grew carrots, radishes, rainbow chard, heirloom tomatoes, lettuces, and herbs from seed. It was all surprisingly delicious! I also started learning food photography and writing down our own recipes for an aspirational cookbook. I watched and read a lot about gardening and homesteading. We attended a chicken class (yes, a class in someone’s backyard about raising hens for eggs).
Before the renovation started, we gathered friends around our table outdoors, grilled summer vegetables, cooked over fire, and looked for the first evening stars. For the first time in perhaps ever, our idea of home might be more than each other’s presence. Home is becoming intertwined with a sense of place and familiar faces.
The tension and mystery we face
At the risk of this blog post devolving into some teenage Xanga rant, what is my life right now? I don’t know. Can we push the boundaries and rewrite the rules? Is it all too much? When does a decade become a blur in our memory because we can’t maintain enough awareness to remember anything specific?
Sometimes my priorities feel so diametrically opposed that I fear tearing apart at the seams. To stay or to go. To be present, consistently, with all the people I love, here and everywhere. To nourish the earth beneath my feet. To go where my feet take me.
To know the answer is to have already lived it. Meanwhile, I find myself wondering what to do next.
On pace, margin, and balance
Sometimes I feel that if our lives are a storybook, I am usually overeager and impatient to see what happens next. I tend to live more in the future than the past, obsessing over possibilites when perhaps I could more deeply enjoy each present moment.
We are each just one of the authors of our own story, as other people, the planet, and the divine shape our collective future. Like many other humans, I may always feel the tension of becoming deeply rooted in a place while yearning to go far away. We all desire both stability and adventure, in whatever forms it comes. And even if today’s big questions are eventually answered, more will certainly mushroom in their place.
One way I experience a semblance of balance in a season of transition and uncertainty is this: acknowledging the pace at which we live and change, while protecting the margins. I have spent more time intentionally reflecting on the choices we make everyday and their consequences. This non-judgmental observation has helped me to at least recognize that the experiences I have, and my relationship to them, are things I can continue to shape. We are free to change our pace. We are free to move at the speed of our own conscious awareness.
I continue to create margin, which for me is a space where I can freely observe and clarify my own thoughts. This might mean that I do not listen to as many audiobooks or podcasts as I could, but it gives my mind time to settle. Whether I’m folding laundry or making dinner, I appreciate silence when I can get it.
Here’s to a soulful 2023
Yes, we have plans. You probably do too. I have a few goals. You as well.
But amidst all the to-dos, the scheduling, the logistics, the administration of life, I hope we each find our way toward that which is most important to us. May you experience meaning and vitality in many moments this year.