Hap-pee-ness

 

Happiness is like peeing your pants—everyone can see it but only you can feel its warmth.

Yes... I went there. Insert Billy Madison scene, “You’re not cool until you pee your pants,” and splash some water around your crotch area.  No, this epistle will not be about how to successfully pee ones pants (PM me if you need pointers) or how to become potty trained (are we really every 100% potty trained? Really? haha). Instead, this will be about happiness. Joy. Confusion. Being lost in this world, which there is nothing wrong with that. I will type crossly about why my favorite quote is, “not all who wander are lost/ or aimless,” and explain what hap-pee-ness means to me.

If there is one thing that frustrates my mom about who I am (there are many more issues), it is that I have a wandering heart. She hates it because it means I can never stay put, in one place, preferably in Idaho. It’s a no bueno situation since all she does is worry but I realized when I went to college, about 1,200 miles away, that I seek a portable home.  I have struggled for a long time with what “home” meant to me. Turns out, for me, “Where thou art, that is home” (Emily Dickinson).

I have found so much joy in being lost. Primary example—Peru. This was an awesome trip I took with one of my best friends, Spenser. He was the perfect fit because he loves adventure, hiking, willing to try new things; basically anything. “Basically anything” became fatal one day for him after saying yes to too much alpaca and guinea pig the night prior in Machu Picchu …but there is a different time to discuss stomachs adjusting to Peruvian food and altitude sickness. Back onto subject—being stranded. It was day three, adjusted to altitude sickness drinking loads of cocoa tea (about 12,500 ft above sea level) and we were on our way up through Sacred Valley to Machu Picchu. The bus dropped us off on a corner, literally, with our bags and gear, and said “adios!” No joke. So we waited for a van from our hotel to pick us up; it was “planned.”  Two hours later, with a white girl and Japanese looking man still standing on the same corner, white girl decides to take it upon her to find a pay phone. Heck, she took two years of high school Spanish, could interpret graffiti on the buildings (words like “diablo”—such a safe neighborhood), everything was under control.

Pay phone found; coins inserted; hotel contacted; hotel notes pickup time two hours ago but says to take a taxi. Sounded smooth, right? Well… it only took about 20 minutes to find a pay phone, another five minutes to figure out the “coin” situation, and then add at least 10 attempts to dial the number. I did make three friends who, after having a good laugh at my obvious struggle, pointed out my issue. You will never know what the issue was but it was a “palm in face situation.” So… phone is ringing-- so thankful this person had good English!  Insert breath of fresh air. They say sorry for missing us at the corner but to take a taxi. Doesn’t sound horrible except its dusk outside and I get to walk back to my travel partner and explain the awesome news. One of the best things about Spenser is that he laughs at everything like I do.

 

Laughter at the corner ends, now we move on foot to find a taxi. Dusk becomes dark as we have our bags walking through this random town of Peru. We continue laughing and joking that we are going to die because both of us are amazing travelers and didn’t have a cell phone or any other way to notify family (not the best “How to travel abroad safely” tip). About a half mile up a hill, stroke of luck, we see a line of taxis. I show the driver the address, he nods, pops open his trunk for our bags, we get in the backseat without hesitation, and the drive begins. Remember how I said Spenser and I were joking about dying? We really thought the driver was taking us out to the middle of nowhere and we were going to vanish off the Earth. Seriously. Why? 15 minutes –ish (it is hard to keep track of time when you are panicking), driving crazy on a dirt road, hitting huge bumps, us catching some major taxi air, and its freaking dark! We can’t see ANYTHING but the stars. Insert panic laughter and awkward dying jokes. “At least this was a fun ride,” my last thought started to trickle in (humor never fails). Next thing I feel is a sudden stop, dirt flying all around (windows didn’t roll up all the way), and the driver honks. HONKS!?! What the hell is going on?!  This is it. THIS. IS. IT. That was surely a gang sign honk that notified someone, somewhere, that they had stupid Americans with him. I’ve watched the movies… I’m white, from a very small town in Idaho, remember?

Weirdly, a little door opens, magnifying this HUGE solid wooden gate, and a stranger hops through. Words were said, the man walks back through the door, now this gate opens. It was a whole new world (start singing Aladdin). Hello five star hotel! Hallelujah!  Fist pump in the air! Spenser and I do what we know best—laughed at the entire situation for the rest of the night, jumped on beds, and laughed more. And get full body stone massages. They practically forced us. So horrible…

So why did I tell you that story? Most of the time in Peru we were lost and it was awesome. There was no itinerary if we didn’t want to do a tour or go for a certain hike or attend an event. We ate what we wanted, went where we felt like going, talked with strangers who tried to sell us cocaine and marijuana, and tried not to give away all our money to the incredible, penetrating, little brown eyes on the streets asking for help. Seven days of unplanned events that made me truly happy.

Not all who wander are lost. I love this saying, very fitting for what my heart desires. There are some days I take a drive to somewhere, not caring how long or what the destination is; but I enjoy what’s around me and, most importantly, what happens. There was one random drive I took that I had the joyous event of a popped tire—I changed the tire on the side of the highway and Charlie Mike-d. That experience made me feel free, invincible, like I couldn’t be stopped as long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other.  In college, a group of us would play the dice game—if the dice rolls on an even number you turn left, if it roles on an odd number you turn right. It’s these little things, the simple moments of who you are lost with, rather than what you are actually doing. There was laughter, overwhelming moments of joy telling insane stories, and playing the infamous “never have I ever” game. It was living life, being real, authentic with one another, letting down little walls. It was quite simply freedom in the purest form.  Not worrying about the next thing in life, or trying to figure out how to fit in the mold that everyone thinks you need to be in, but just living in the current moment. I have never had a dull moment when “lost,” but rather have experienced/seen raw events—some good, some bad, but nothing that has killed me. These events humbly opened up my eyes.

It’s too easy to forget that we are living because we are so focused on the future or hurt by the past, that it leaves us distracted and we overlook that we are indeed ALIVE. You are breathing. You woke up today.  Whatever storms you went through, never forget that it is often the darkest skies that we see the brightest stars and sometimes you just have to let things go. You see, we opt for so much noise/technology to distract us so we don’t have to spend alone time with ourselves, hearing our own thoughts or how we “feel.” Fact is we will never really get over something until we actually spend time dealing with that “something.” I dare you to sit with that event(s) or word(s) spoken to you for longer than 180 seconds. In silence. Or just sit in silence for five minutes, clearing your mind.  We spend so much time guarded that we feel so comfortable drawing lines, working so hard to create our world—but we forget that those same lines that  keep us guarded, feeling safe, also keep us from stepping out and saying “yes!” to an amazing adventure.   

Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling.  Getting lost is not a waste of time. You have to meet people where they are, and sometimes you have to leave them there. The worst feeling is when someone makes you feel special, then suddenly leaves you hanging and you have to act like you don’t care at all. A person’s actions will tell you everything you need to know. I hope that you climb a mountain so you can see the world, not so the world can see you. It is always our own self that we find at the end of the journey. The sooner we face that self, the better.  Your lessons come from the journey, not the destination. Too often we are so preoccupied with the destination, we forget the journey. Good words to absorb.

 

 As FY 13 comes to an end, I look back and realized that I marked six things off my bucket list.  Joined the military, traveled to Virginia and North Carolina —visited UNC campus, watched a Tar Heels men’s basketball game, couldn’t resist the A Walk to Remember scene (two places at once on the border of VA and NC)— and Veterans weekend at Arlington/Washington, D.C.. Also, visiting old friends in Iowa, having priceless roomie time with my two best friends who understand me (that’s an understatement), and visiting my battles/sisters. Hard to believe this year brought me six flights (four to the east coast… I might be getting the hint?), visiting seven states, and next year alone at this moment I have four weddings to go to (none in Idaho), one multi-country overseas/backpack trek and one multi-state hippie/ couch surfing adventure to start planning. Time to start counting my pennies! And find someone to travel with.

I may be turning 27 in December, single, no dependents, and not a homeowner. That stuff doesn’t bother me…well, maybe getting wrinkles but no SPF can prevent that one. At my sensitive age I would most regret:  not making time for my friends and family; not enjoying nature on hikes, fishing and camping;  letting people in my life forget  that they are special to me; holding grudges and letting my past determine my future; not being me; forgetting how to laugh and poke fun at life’s events; saying no to change/adventure; mixing priorities of life up; forgetting my faith and love of servant hood; becoming too distracted that I forget to have eyes to see and ears to hear; and letting someone’s limitations transfer over and stop me. There is that saying, “live with no regrets,” that so many people quote—kind of like YOLO. My mentality is – I have nothing to lose but everything to gain, so why not try/do everything. When it comes to dreams/goals/bucket list, the common denominator is me. I can be my best friend or worst enemy. I’m just lucky enough to have realized that I need to travel, to engage with strangers, to see/experience the world, have awesome raw awkward moments, and crazy adventures for my soul to have peace, joy, and happiness. I feel fortunate to finally know what makes me happy. I also feel fortunate to have the friends and family that I do, too.

I see my path, but I don’t know where it leads. Not knowing where I’m going is what inspires me to travel it.

JUST GO. GET LOST. 

Not all who wander are lost,

Whit