What kind of travel do you envision for yourself?
What kind of travel do you envision for yourself? Are there plans to retire and embark on adventures? In today's world, remote work enables many to take their careers on the road, and that's undeniably exciting!
As Wendy and I traversed the paths of our post-business-selling journey, we found ourselves caught up in a whirlwind of emotions. One profound sentiment was the exhilaration of new adventures, while another sensation was that of merely passing through. Despite our strong bond and compatibility, we couldn't help but yearn for meaningful social connections with others. While we cherished our time together, the richness of life experiences shared with fellow travelers held its own allure. We're deeply rooted in our church community, and the absence of corporate worship and in-person gatherings left a void in our hearts. Before our travels, we used to host a weekly gathering at our home, where friends would share meals, engage in social activities, and partake in Bible study. The absence of this community connection weighed heavily on us.
Our departure marked the beginning of a three-month tour of the western United States, filled with visits to national parks and a plethora of outdoor adventures. These experiences provided us with incredible sights and thrills, yet amidst the grandeur, we couldn't help but yearn for the simplicity of everyday life. We missed the comforting routine of sitting on our porch, welcoming company, tending to chores like mowing the lawn, and our daily gym workouts. The absence of visits to our grandchildren and the joy of celebrating local events only intensified our longing for the familiar. We've come to believe that there's a harmonious balance between globetrotting and staying grounded in the local tapestry of life. Both contribute significantly to our mental well-being. Life, we've discovered, isn't an "either/or" proposition; it's wiser to dwell in the middle ground. Perhaps shorter, more frequent journeys closer to home or a slightly condensed two-month expedition would provide the best of both worlds, allowing us to explore distant horizons while maintaining ties to our roots.
For we've realized that being away too often can mean missing significant milestones in the lives of others. Take, for instance, our neighbor Neal, whom I befriended shortly after moving into our new house. At 84 years old, I gave him access to our property, looked forward to getting to know him better, and promised to see him soon. Tragically, he passed away shortly after our departure, leaving his wife, Shirley, without our support during her time of need. Shortly thereafter, another neighbor faced a severe health crisis, and we missed out on numerous memorable events at our church and within our local community.
For now, Wendy and I advocate for embracing both worlds—travel and staying close to home. Perhaps, instead of embarking on a three-month journey, we could opt for a two-month one, still allowing us to explore vast distances. Alternatively, we might embark on shorter trips lasting a week or so. Travel serves as a powerful reminder that life is a continuous journey, and our time here is fleeting. For those who believe in an afterlife, it's important to remember that we don't truly die; our bodies do. Death is merely a comma, and beyond that, we embark on an eternal journey.
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