How I Spent My Summer Vacation

People have started to ask me things; “How was your trip?” “Did you find yourself?”  “Why did you come home early?"

And it’s a bit uncomfortable. Until I remind myself of something that I learned this summer, that I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, that I am just fine exactly how I am, and that if I really do want to live in love and openness, I have to move through the discomfort to the truth of where I am in the moment.

And in this moment, I am happy to be home, so appreciative of the experiences I have had this summer, and eager to see what happens next.

How was my trip? My trip was awesome, amazing, challenging, and eye-opening. 

I knew that I had to be alone, that I needed to learn how to listen to my own inner voice, to follow my inner guidance. I had to be able to recognize my own intuition and to hear what it was saying. And I needed to learn how to listen. 

When ‘the Wunderbar fell’, it was the first time in a long time that I had listened to my own ‘knowing’, somehow certain that it was the exact right thing to do. I knew that I would go, no matter what anyone else thought. It’s a great feeling, that ‘knowing’, and I set off for Europe to find more of it.

I have to admit, I’ve always believed that I could do anything I put my mind to. But knowing, and ‘knowing’, they are different. I believed that I could travel to Europe by myself, but now I know it. I can figure out train schedules and make myself understood even though I don’t speak the language and I can walk a long ways wearing a heavy backpack, even with blisters. I feel confident and capable in a new expanded way.  

There was a real freedom in being alone, in only having myself to please. But I also discovered the challenge of taking the responsibility to figure out what I wanted and what would actually be pleasing. And then owning it. It’s powerful. And sometimes lonely.

In fact, I was lonely a lot of the time I was away. I had no frame of reference for enjoying things alone. The Mona Lisa is just a small painting behind glass when there is no one there to say, “Hey, here we are, looking at the world’s most famous painting together.” I actually had to remind myself that I was in The Louvre, to appreciate the beauty all around me. I had to forget the crowds and the fact that I was alone among them. And then there was this delicious moment, when I was captivated by the enormous collection of ancient pottery. I gazed at these beautiful urns, etched with the ancient patterns I had just spent two weeks dancing, and the tears were running down my face. I felt so connected to the ancestors who had created and used these vessels. The guard in that room came over to me, touched my shoulder and simply said, “I know.” A perfect moment shared with a perfect stranger.

At first I was envious of all the beautiful clothes at the festival, but I learned to appreciate the 2 Merino wool t-shirts that I wore day after day. They were cool and comfortable, washed like a dream in the sink, and dried overnight. No one cared that my hair was a bit flat so I allowed myself to give up that judgement as well. I had no one to impress but myself, and I was already impressed that I was living out of one small backpack and that I could hike 5 miles to the next town.

In the past meals eaten alone in restaurants have been quick and rare, but I learned that it was okay to relax, take my time, and appreciate the moment. I began to realize that I could take the time, that the only person judging me was me- in fact I am certain I paid more attention to the other diners than they to me. 

I still think it’s more fun to have someone to share your experiences with. But I also think with practice, I could get better at traveling alone. And I know that I can do it. And the power of knowing is immensely satisfying.

The intensity of the dance workshop and festival- ten days of deep connection- followed by weeks of aloneness demonstrated to me just how important relating to other people is. When it was no longer easy to connect, and the feelings of loneliness and vulnerability were forcefully demonstrated to me, I saw very clearly how I want to live. Not alone. Not disconnected. Not judging, or being judged. But open, loving, joyfully connected to the world around me.

And once I discovered that, once I had that knowing, it was time to come home. To my family, to my friends, to my life, to me. I'll be looking for more Tracy every day.