I almost always travel alone, excepting for earlier years when my daughter was younger and sometimes accompanied me. It’s better that way. There is absolutely nothing between you and the real experience of the world you are moving through. If ever you have a travelling companion, no matter how well suited they are, there is inevitably a disconnect, the need to compromise on plans, to be social, to talk about experiences, to filter most everything you see or do through that other person. I recall, for example, some of the organised country walks I briefly did a few years back, recovering from an illness, when I couldn’t travel. My chief memory is of striding across the landscape, fleetingly scoping out some panoramic vista or other, caught up in some interminable conversation with other folk on the walk. It’s not that I eschew company completely or don’t enjoy social opportunity on occasion, meeting with friends, or colleagues. I used to be a regular at professional international conferences for example, and discussing shared interests over drinks in a bar was always part of that scene. I recently described it by explaining that if I had to choose between being alone all the time or always being in company, then I would inevitably choose the former, because although I would undoubtedly miss the company of people occasionally, I would never miss it as much as I would miss my aloneness.
Certainly there are times when I can feel a little lonely, but rarely and never badly so. It is always more than made up for by that love of my aloneness, the pathway called, in Yogic terms, Kaivalya. Sitting alone in a restaurant or bar somewhere surrounded by people, by couples or groups, all chatting away happily, I generally feel like I am my own best company. A very profound connection with that Spirit that I refer to as the Self is unquestionably the main reason for this, as it means I never ever feel really alone.
As I watch evening fall over the mountains here, Phewa Lake all satin and luminous reflecting the light, I sometimes reflect upon the strangeness of the life course and personality that brought me here, to a place so far from my native land, having abandoned everything that most people would count as normal and necessary for life, certainly in these later years of life. I have one small cabin baggage sized suitcase and a small backpack and nothing else, having given away everything that had constituted my life to the point of leaving the UK for India at the end of 2019. I have no idea how this will evolve as the weeks become months and longer. Yet I feel free and open and alert to life and responsive to change. I feel I am still growing as a person and feel very much myself, however that might be defined. I feel my life is authentic and original, not in any way ‘off the peg’. Living this way opens the spectrum of experience at both ends, both the wonderful as well as the difficult. But there is very little of the mundane in between.
None of us live forever, even if we’re very careful, so I am certainly aware that death will eventually catch up with me somewhere. I have sometimes joked darkly that when the Grim Reaper comes for me, he’ll find me out here on the road somewhere. But, aside from odd occasions, I do feel that I will have had a life truly worth that name and carry all the wealth gained from it within me.
What a glorious place full of life and expectations……if that suits one’s lifestyle. Festivals no matter what religion seem to…
Glad you enjoyed it Gill. It all seems a long time ago now!
Lovely, Liz.
Thank you Michael. It’s always good to have your feedback on the posts!
Thank you Michael! You should visit one day. Bring Gill, it’s right up her street!