" Travel is like a good, challenging book: it demands
presentness—the ability to live completely in the moment, absorbed in
the words or vision of reality before you."
– Robert Kaplan
It’s
de rigueur to speak of “creating memories,”
particularly when it comes to travel. This tendency has only been
intensified by and through social media and online sharing. Similarly,
we’ve written about creating
a story-filled life, the idea being that
experiences rather than material goods
are what truly shape who we are. While I still believe that implicit
underlying premise to be true, something happened recently that nudged
me to consider the idea of creating memories in a different light.
Before sharing that story, two questions occurred to me:
1. What if in our quest to create memories, we inadvertently sell
the actual experience short or diminish its importance as it happens?
That is, we forsake the experience for the metaphor.
2. How can we be more present during our travels so as to savor
those experiences for what they are in the moment while also deepening
how we might recall and share the memory of them later?
What if accessing memories isn’t an option?
Last month, I returned to the United States to spend time with
family, including with my stepfather who now suffers from Lewy Body
dementia, an Alzheimer’s-like disease. He’s led an incredibly full life,
one flush with experiences that span growing up in small town Arkansas
to serving as an ambassador in Africa, with all manner of storied twists
and turns along the way that were both a function of who he was and
also made him whom he came to be. He could fill a room with his stories
and presence; he kept everyone laughing, wondering which story might
come next.
He’s pretty far along in the disease right now, so it is unclear if
he still accesses his memories since he is no longer able to share them.
In spending time with him recently, I realized that in our
interaction with one another, what really mattered was what happened in
the moment. The experience was about being together, the power of touch,
and presence – or perhaps more precisely, presentness. All the while,
the world outside of me and my stepfather moved along at pace with its
typical rapidity.
As this unfolded, I was struck by the realization: being present is
about slowing things down enough to truly feel, experience, and sense
them – to grasp them in full. To think of it another way: to slow things
down so that life begins to feel a little like one of those film reels
where the bullet from the gun is slowed to such a speed that it might be
plucked from the air by the human hand.
That kind of attention. That kind of grasp.
In full disclosure, none of this was easy or comfortable for me to
process. As I focused on trying to be present with my stepfather, the
urge to “escape” the situation by considering my to-do list or pulling
out my phone to check my email was difficult to resist.
In this life, it’s far too easy to buzz around, to drift into the
busy.
This racing around grants me the permission to not focus on what’s in
front of me. It also provides a retreat from possible productive
discomfort, something I must face if I ever hope to sort this world.
This experience caused me to wonder:
What if amidst the noise,
the din, the speed, we could slow down and be more deliberately present —
with our life experience, our travel experience?
Being Present in Travel: Why?
Being present and practicing presentness is hard.
So why burn cycles trying to do it, especially while traveling? After all, travel is supposed to be unadulterated bliss, no?
My first answer to this is: “
Because it’s a ‘good’ for us, of course.” But I realize that’s not a particularly convincing argument so I dug a little deeper.
Here’s my why.
1. To create calm or peace in an overwhelming (too) fast-moving world.
This is one of the reasons why many of us travel in the first place,
to get away from the day-to-day “busy-ness” of our lives, to recharge
creatively, mentally.
So then what’s the point of “getting away” only to re-create the same circumstances from which you were hoping to escape?
A walk on the beach, a sustained breath of fresh air. Rabbit Island, New Zealand.
2. To avoid missing the present by constantly pondering the future.
If we are busy “collecting memories,” something inherently
future-oriented, are we truly immersed or fully engaged in what is
happening around us during the actual experience? Once we begin to
measure or capture an experience, we give away fragments of it in
exchange for its capture.
Sure, you can make the argument that capturing the experience is in fact part of it. I’ll buy that to a limited degree.
3. To find deeper connections with people and place.
It takes time to fully grasp a place and its people, to push through
the confusion and difference and discord that first greets us upon our
arrival —
all so that we may depart with greater appreciation, connection, empathy and something even stronger: care.
What began as confusion ended with pure generosity. An impromptu market feast — Zugdidi, Georgia
4. To judge less, to be more open.
I’d argue that simply observing and being present actually tones down
the rush-to-judgment tendency of the human brain. If we take things in
as they come instead of trying to evaluate them all against our
preconceived notions and measuring sticks, maybe we’ll make more room
for others and for ourselves.
5. To deepen our observation, to heighten our awareness.
Being present surfaces previously unseen details. It also exposes the
depths. Presentness gives us a chance to connect heart and mind in a
way that no photograph, no matter how well composed, can ever capture.
Beautiful details are easy to miss. Luang Prabang, Laos.
6. To build patience for learning and reward.
If you’ve ever tried yoga or experienced very slow movements of the
body in physiotherapy, maybe you’ve understood how coming to terms with a
little pain or discomfort is necessary to make progress. It’s also not
surprising that exceptionally slow body movements can paradoxically make
us feel disoriented or even ill. Same thing applies with slowing down
the world around us. It forces us into a different mode of operation and
to deal with new and sometimes uncomfortable data and circumstances.
4 Ways to be Present in Travel
If you’re still with us (and we’ve hopefully convinced you of the
benefits of being present), here are some ways that may practically help
you put this all into play while you travel.
1. Just sit, be and observe for a while.
Be perfectly still — for at least five minutes, taking in all that is
around you. Don’t try to judge or make sense of what you’re seeing, but
notice and appreciate the details, the once insignificant.
Let it go by.
Pulling over to the side of the market in Rangamati, Bangladesh.
In urban areas, I like to find a bench in a park or busy city street.
Or I’ll lean against a street corner wall of a market to watch without
attracting attention. Like being in the middle of it without being the
center of anyone’s attention. Perhaps like a fly on the wall.
Later I engage and I find that my engagement is more informed, more connected.
If I feel over-stimulated by a place (e.g., the streets of Dhaka,
Bangladesh or Mumbai,
India)
I find that this approach helps me to to better take in the big picture
so I’m not as overwhelmed by the action, the sensory overload that
comes with immersion.
In nature, this means finding a spot to sit. Give this one at least
15 mintues, longer if you like. All day even. You may be overwhelmed not
only by the greater range of sights, smells, and sounds available to
you, but also their intensity. Why? Because you’ve begun to notice and
pay attention to what has always been there, yet was somehow deprived of
your attention.
2. Have a destination in mind to allow “productive” wandering.
This may sound like an oxymoron, but stick with me on this one.
Choose a destination (e.g., bakery, cafe, temple, sight, etc.), but free
yourself from the expectation that you must actually arrive.
I find that some of our best experiences are the unexpected ones, ones that happen
when en route we’ve allowed ourselves to stop, get lost, follow our curiosity and in some cases, granted ourselves the freedom to never even arrive.
Stumbling upon a street market while getting lost on the way to Durbar Square, Kathmandu.
However, while setting off to wander without purpose may work for
some, for others it can result in a feeling of pointlessness. Having
some destination in mind, even if loosely, allows us to focus less on
where we’re going and enjoy a little more of what’s around us.
During
our recent trip to Strasbourg,
we found that some of our most satisfying moments of exploration and
immersion occurred en route (usually to something food-related), in the
little things.
3. Put down the device, for a few minutes.
Don’t get me wrong, photographing and documenting a place, an
experience is important to many of us. If anyone can appreciate that
need, that impulse, we can. Very much so. Consuming an image-memory is
also satisfying.
However there’s a difference between taking things in from behind the
lens and engaging with them barrier-free with our senses only.
Recognizing that difference seems crucial to our maintaining our
humanity, our human-ness.
Being taken away by what is. Koh Samui, Thailand.
Blink. Take a photo with your mind. What you observe will be more, different.
When we were invited to
an evening Ramadan gathering in Kyrgyzstan,
we resisted the urge to pull out our camera and take photos, despite
the spectacular uniqueness of our circumstance: a gritty, candlelight
meal in a yurt. We aimed not to break the atmosphere of our welcome and
treatment as one-part honored guest, another part family. There were
many unusual moments during that meal, including being handed the
jawbone of a goat to gnaw on, but enjoying the experience without escape
delivered a deeper connection with the place and the people around us.
Furthermore, if you embrace this, you just might find your photos
appearing strangely three-dimensional when you view them later. That
other dimension? It was formed and informed by the depth of your
connection to the experience.
4. Go light on the itinerary.
I’ve found that in most parts of my life, the concept “less is more” reaffirms itself with each new experience.
In travel, definitely so. The flip side: this one is strenuously difficult to put into practice.
In the face of limited time and resources, it’s tempting to try and
pack it all in, to shoehorn the Top 10 list from your favorite guidebook
into your itinerary — because it’s what you ought to do to maximize
your experience. Been there, done that. While checking the boxes may
provide some satisfaction and a series of photo ops, the question you
might consider asking yourself: Will I really come away feeling
refreshed, recharged, exhilarated, renewed?
And:
What is my unique story to have emerged from all this?
Our advice, just as it is with packing: put everything you want to do
on a list and then prioritize the top half. Then begin to let go of
even more. Try to plan only a visit or two a day and leave room for
those in-between times lounging at a café, sitting on a park bench,
diving into an unexpected conversation. Take in the people and place,
the living history around you.
Stopping for tea is almost always a good idea. Xiahe, China.
——
Just as it’s easy to find ways to be busy in our day-to-day lives, a
similar temptation exists while traveling. Despite all our own travel
experiences, Dan and I continue to struggle with this.
It’s difficult to fully be where we are and to appreciate the
simplicity of the moment. There’s fear of missing out (FOMO).
Ironically, this fear may stand in the way of some of the most rewarding
experiences travel has to offer.
Being present is not only key to accessing experience and memory creation, but it’s also an end in itself.
How do you remain present in your travels?
This article originally appeared in Uncornered Market and is republished with permission. Audrey Scott is a writer, speaker and consultant with a focus on the intersection of travel and personal growth.
She’s been traveling around the world with her husband for over seven
years, telling stories about a country’s more personal and human
dimensions, often challenging stereotypes and shifting perceptions along
the way.
