The Wondrous Gift of Travel

This year has been fun and tough like most others. It has brought me many tears and laughter and muscle aches and full bellies. It has been replete with special moments with each of my children and my hubby, with all of us together as a family. But it also brought some very powerful times for my husband and I as individuals. Unlike other years, this one we decided to travel by ourselves leaving the family life and the routine behind.

He went to Lebanon to visit his family for Easter and when he bought his ticket, he felt I also needed to do something for myself. So he bought me a surprise ticket to Europe, to go and live one of my greatest dreams… he gave me the wondrous gift of travel!

Defining the destination got a little tricky but once the friend who ended up being my travel companion had reached out to me saying that she too wanted a trip just for herself, deciding where to go was very easy.

We submerged ourselves in travel books and websites. We organized and planned and nixed ideas. We were decidedly indecisive about all the things we needed to include in the itinerary. We had spread sheets and phone meetings -she leaves abroad- and we texted and sent each other info until everything came together.

We landed in Madrid, each traveling from different spots of the world but both ready to soak up every bit of our trip as possible. I figured out my way to the hotel with a giant smile in my face. My heart tingling with excitement. I didn’t need to think about anyone’s schedule, nap time, potty break. It was me with my camera and my map and I was the owner of my days for over a week.

It was one of those experiences that as you go through it, you can’t stop yourself from trying to capture every moment, every photo, every flavor and aroma. So I just walked all over, explored places, opened my eyes wide and let my pores absorb everything they could.

I found the little things that I loved about the Spanish culture that brought me closer to my Mexico, to another time. I lived art in the architecture and the paintings and sculptures at museums. I visited the museum of the first artist that I ever loved as a young child in Amsterdam, bringing me joyful tears as I remembered going through my grandpa’s Van Gogh book time and again.

I laughed until I couldn’t handle it anymore with my travel companion who’s the god mother of one of my children, with my dear friend from college with whom I shared some remarkable times my first day in Madrid, and with my childhood friend -mi amiga del alma- who made us a trio during the first part of our trip.

I connected with my thoughts and feelings in a way in which the daily tasks of a stay-at-home-mom don’t let you -laundry didn’t get in the way of my aspirations this time. I had time to think about what else there is for me now, while I’m still raising little children who need my constant attention. I realized that waiting until they all are in school, until they grow, is just a mental block. This trip helped me realize the pleasure of a visit to a museum or a walk at a park on my own. The joy that new experiences bring to me. I don’t need to wait for the little things that will amount to something big later on. My friends cheered me on and I cheered them on. We all found a channel to talk, to externalize the conflicts and fears we all harbor inside.

Having mi comadre and mi amiga del alma during this wondrous experience was as cleansing as the Arab baths that we visited when passing through Seville. Having adult conversation at leisure (you know how some days when you stay home with the kids, all you want is another adult to get you out of that mental rot?) was as exciting to me as the Flamenco performance we lived in Granada. Walking around history and the majesty of La Alhambra filled my pores with the joie-de-vivre that I needed to wake up from the stupor of my own mental blocks and fears of never doing/accomplishing enough.

I feel a renewed flow of energy waiting for me to channel it to my dreams and aspirations even if it is one little, insignificant step at a time. All journeys begin with the first step. So here we go life! I don’t know exactly where I’m headed but I at least know that all the little things serve a purpose (that includes you, giant mountain of laundry waiting to be folded!).



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