To cross over, lift your foot... Thoughts on travel, seasons, & writing

Lift your foot; cross over; move into emptiness of question and answer and question. - Rumi

I don’t know what it is about the season of autumn that calls me to travel. Perhaps it’s the changing of seasons itself; the call from the brilliance of summer into the dying leaves of fall. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that my birthday is in September and it’s the beginning of my new year. Maybe it’s the rhythm of childhood and school and bringing order and ritual back into the days after the leisurely chaos of June, July, and August.

            I don’t really know nor does it matter, but as I write these pages I realize that once again I’m drawn to travel in this time between summer’s heat and winter’s ice. A time in between.

            A time in between. Yes that feels true. The liminal space between here and there, then and now, the already and the yet to come. I am here now sitting in my cozy office in Seattle. Twinkly lights grace the edges of my window and ceiling, hinting at the holidays to come. The fan from my space heater kicks in, signaling that the temperature has dropped below my tolerable working level of 68*. My body is limber and warmed up from an hour of hot yoga and steaming coffee fills the cup that says, follow your heart.

            This is a new time in between. It is November 1, 2013 and I’ve just begun my second round of Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month). My first novel, “Blue,” sits patiently by my side waiting for its turn. I’m on the fourth edit and my goal was to have it completed (or at least another draft) before I ventured in round two of this deliriously fun and rousing time of writing. Alas, it was not to be, so here I find myself embarking on a new book and a new journey in just a few days.

            The travel bug has called me to Paris this time. Again? Yes, again.

“What’s in Paris?” my yoga instructor asked.

What’s in Paris? I know and yet I don’t. The season of ‘the call’ is speaking.

I’m not sure most people would believe me if I told them I don’t actually plan these events. They just kind of happen. Of course, once the seed is planted, there’s planning involved. But when it’s meant to be, there is a sense of effortless that comes alongside. Airfares drop or frequent flyer seats open up. The perfect little studio apartment is available for my time frame. A previously planned commitment is cancelled or simply falls off the calendar. There’s money in my bank account and a travel map with my name on it.

These trips or adventures or journeys or pilgrimages—whatever you feel comfortable calling them… anything except “vacation,” please—all have a quality of being timeless, like I’ve been there before. They feel like the seeds of motion were set into place long before their names—Dublin; Vienna; Cairo—entered my vocabulary.

As a kid, I thought Austria and Australia were the same place with different spellings. I wasn’t a big geography buff and I’ve never had much of a bucket list for places to do or things to see… except for Paris and Australia (which I’ve yet to explore… the Call hasn’t come yet).

Tomorrow morning I leave for Paris. I am delighted, excited, and curious. I am lifting my foot and crossing over.

What is calling you during this season? Travel? A writing project? Leisurely days by the fireplace with a cup of tea?

Invite yourself to spend a few minutes pondering or journaling with Rumi’s words. I’d love to hear what you discover.

Lift your foot; cross over; move into emptiness of question and answer and question. - Rumi

One more thing... There is one spot available to journey with me to Paris next spring... Check it out here!!

Comments

[Dianna]

Have a fabulous adventure!!! Xoxo

[Kayce S Hughlett]

Thanks, Dianna... I'm counting on it!! xoxo

[Brian B]

Any other Vienna Alums going?