July 30, 2014
We spent the week disconnected from our separate lives. In their place we shared a time of calm, reflection, laughter, wonder, mild frustration, adventure, old familiarity and comfort. We talked, we walked, we hiked, we read, we cooked, we sat together in the most comfortable of silences; the kind that comes from having known one another through and through over the years, despite the distance. We marveled at starfish, hoped for whale sightings, gave thanks for narrowly missing a run in with a black bear, climbed 2,800 some odd steep steps, watched a family sing folk songs in perfect harmony, made friends with strangers, listened to old tunes and stared off into the distance. I learned more about my dear friend and more about myself.
And maybe the best part about traveling is neither the destination nor the journey but rather the fact that you step outside yourself and your life in favor of the observation of the lives of others. It’s a glimpse into so many other forms of life on this here planet. It’s a reminder of all the things we have to be thankful for in our own lives. We bring that knowledge back with us to carry us through what we once viewed as ordinary, now viewed through a lens of gratitude. And each time we travel we learn more about this world, about each other, about the human connection and what it means to be an unmistakably powerful vessel of gratitude and understanding, a warrior of love.