Symbolic Meaning of Travel
This post is dedicated to my bro, who at this very moment is enduring a 1400+ mile drive to visit me. Bless his heart. To make matters more challenging, he’s traveling with his precious kids – two furry, female beauties – a German Shepherd and a Beagle.
I’ve talked to him a couple times while he’s dealing with the drive. There’s no bones about it…that kind of epic journey isn’t fun – and it can be arduous with dogs. Let’s just say he’s not a happy camper. :o
I know what he’s going through. I can’t count how many times I’ve made the same exact trip (from Texas to New York and vice versa). It’s a colossal soul-sucker.
The drive reminds me of the freaking Odyssey. But like that lovely Greek tale, the road kicks up some really wild, wonderful and magical dust.
Here’s where the symbolic meanings kick in….
No matter where you travel….no matter how far….how wide…how long…travel is one of the most superior symbolic lessons. Why? Because everything changes. Whether by car, plane, train or boat – the scenery is always changing. Have you ever contemplated the symbolism in that? It’s heavy, man. Real heavy.
With every passing mile, there is a golden opportunity to seize a symbolic lesson. No joke.
These don’t have to be mammoth take-away moments. I mean…my mind was blown away when I ate my first Scotch egg while in England. Whoa! But I tell ya – that was an eye-opener in culinary delights for me. Who would have thought!?
Or what about driving…bleary-eyed and bedraggled into a town called Bucksnort. What!?!?! Yeah. Bucksnort, Tennessee. A gas station there has the friendliest folks and the best fried pies that I ever consumed.
But I digress. Travel is a gateway drug for higher-mindedness. Travel jackhammers holes in our hearts and minds that forces us to open up, be aware, embrace and roll with the flow.
The biggest symbolic lesson about travel (in my opinion) is this: Surrender.
Let’s face it – no matter your mode of travel, poop will happen. Stuff will hit the fan. Sometimes it’s good poop. Sometimes it’s fun and whimsical stuff (like the time I met a group of nuns in New Mexico – craziest ladies EVER!).
The point is: It takes guts to take a step out of our comfort zones. Home is definitely where the heart is, and that’s a symbolic course that stands on its own. But travel is crammed with big symbolic juju.
To those of you who chose to brave the great outer circle of comfort, I salute you! And while you’re out there rambling about, consider what you run into. You’ve got to know that no encounter or episode is random. So when you’re driving alongside that motorcycle gang (the leader of which has a literal hog in his sidecar…not kidding…I saw it with my own eyes) consider what that means in the grand scheme of your life.
How do these sometimes bizarre or banal events reflect upon who you are and where you are right now in your life?
At least that’s what travel does for me. It changes my mind, my heart and soul. It re-awakens my heightened sense of symbolic meaning. Travel is like a big puzzle. The pieces all fit in somehow – it’s just up to us to figure out the big picture.
As always, thanks for reading!
Happy travels (and I’ll always leave the light on for you!).
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