There are many kinds of travelers
one who promotes the art of transience
with ejubulent smiling photos atop picturesque vitas, repleat with apeing friends
sleeps undisturbed by change, in the marvel of perpetual motion
one who never travels
but hastens to add, everyone must
and enjoy it they should
for all they cannot understand, they bundle
in wistfulness and naivity
like a child imagining adulthood
the last traveler is uneasy
feeling a sorrow in changing places
the witness of other lives and roads
since earliest memory the yoke of
vacation was not to be appreciated but mourned
their comfort found in staying still
than the kalidoscope of others spin
demanding constancy and things, unable to be bequeathed
where disturbance comes, in the form of expectation
sorrow of coach stations and midway stops
grief striken as graves and road trips without gasoline
you are said to be fortunate, if you can travel often
the grateful traveler may forget
the gritty loneliness of their highway bed
never admitting they wished to return, even before they set off
belonging is a feeling, some will never attain
their search in crowds of strangers, leaves further lost than claimed
Yet no one
No one at all
Will ever admit
To being loathe to travel
So simple yet so poignant too.
“demanding constancy and things, unable to be bequeathed
where disturbance comes, in the form of expectation
sorrow of coach stations and midway stops
grief striken as graves and road trips without gasoline
you are said to be fortunate, if you can travel often
the grateful traveler may forget
the gritty loneliness of their highway bed
never admitting they wished to return, even before they set off”
I find myself thinking of how recently in our history humans have found ways to move about other than on our own feet, perhaps a mere 10,000 years out of some hundreds of thousands. Travel, until recently, was rare and arduous, even dangerous. People did migrate and undertake missions of trade, war, exploration, and diplomacy, but travel presumed to be for pleasure with a return home is very new, an industrial behavior with a hunter-gatherer brain, and a mark of some degree of affluence with leisure time (hence its presumed desirability). No wonder it is both uncomfortable and the discomfort must be unacknowledged.
You’re most welcome. *big hugs*
❤ I pray Sunday is being kind. Always kind to you.
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep – Three kinds of travelers (or not)
Haha. Nope, not a one. Thank you.
Thanks love, grateful to you 💓
Heartfelt and beautiful!❤
Thank you very much, I wish the same for you ( see, not a single ditto mentioned) 😉
Travels not for everyone but Paris is ! Love this Candice ♥️
Oooooh you never cease to amaze me.
And travel could become a metaphor so so many other things. ❤️
I love to travel, without travel you develop very narrow horizons!
I will admit to being loathe to travel. I desire the comfort of my bed. Of my books. Of my cat.
When I travel, I do so for a purpose and never just to be. I am. I be. Wherever I am.
They say to travel to find yourself. To travel to find other people and ways.
Traveling inward is the more enlightening journey.
And, in a big city, you can travel a few miles and find a new culture.
I travel to something or for someone.
For myself, I would stay.
In reality, I’ve never travelled much, but I did like Paris. And this is a great metaphor for life itself in which I have journeyed in full
Could be, 😊
I used to think that. Now I think it entirely depends upon the person. For some, they need never, for others, it’s essential.
Then you must be my twin
Trust you to say that, how right you are my very wise butterfly girl
Much as I love travelling and seeing new places, I love coming back home to the comfort of my own space and bed. Travelling within in – well, awesome. And of course, armchair travelling vicariously through others’ eyes is so interesting. We all see and experience the world in different ways. Paris? I have never been to the city of love and dare say I never will. I hear conflicting opinions from those who have.
I will admit to being loathe to travel at this moment in my life. For once, I feel travel weary. Beautiful words my friend.
Deeply heartfelt and I miss reading your work, Candice. Hope all is well.
“belonging is a feeling, some will never attain” This piece nailed it, and this line is something which was a hard piece to fight for in my life. And still is sometimes. Residual dysfunction, I guess. :/
Reblogged this on misterkaki.
Reading this in Schiphol Airport after being about 10 days ‘ on the road ‘ more or less.
🙂 My traveling friend!
I really appreciate your reblog friend
All the best people have some residue dysfunction 😉 (loved your posts on FB the last two days, you really inspired me)
Thank you so much lovely girl!
I don’t like Paris. There I said it 🙂 I think that it was my stab at irony as most people say ‘oh do go to Paris!’ and I really really don’t like that city. I don’t really get along with a lot of travel for a myriad of reasons but definitely agree w/u it’s great to come home!
Very true! <3 Glad to help!
I didn’t want to be rude and say I have some friends who found Paris to be very unfriendly to non-French speaking tourists. Spoilt their experience. That and poorly maintained public amenities. Make the most of the bits that you enjoy x
You’re not rude most people say that. I’m French born and I think it!
Whew! xx