Travelling Life

ROADS GO EVER ON

J R R Tolkien

Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on,
Under cloud and under star.
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen,
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green,
And trees and hills they long have known.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone.
Let others follow, if they can!
Let them a journey new begin.
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
Still ‘round the corner there may wait
A new road or secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

The chief maxim of Henry David Thoreau’s life was ‘simplify, simplify’… a short sequence of words that formed a recurring theme through much of his writing. When I first gave voice to this goal ‘pursue a minimalistic and simple life’, I didn’t know to what dimensions of thought or action this ideal would take me. Was it simply a cliché sentence that aspired to some notable measure of humility or wisdom? Was it an aspiration to live beyond the asphyxiation of materialism? Was it an attempt to rid myself of the mental deluge of complexity that governed my life? Did I really grasp the significance of those words?

In contemplative honesty I must admit that although my ideals were pure and noble, I didn’t really grasp the transition of thought and lifestyle that needed to take place in order for this goal to be fulfilled. I was neatly trimming the edges of my life without attacking the overgrown jungle of weeds within. Minimalistic and simple at this juncture of time means letting go of everything that has ever held me secure and captive… materialism, comforts, wealth, career, friends, family, normality, security and predictability. It is not that any one of these things is altogether bad but in order for my life to be extended beyond the walls of premeditated insulation, I know I must let them go for a season. I have estranged myself from the penchant attachments of this life by selling my furniture, writing last letters, saying final goodbyes and packing away a few belongings into cardboard boxes to be revisited someday a year or two from now. Aspiring to simplicity…

Henry David Thoreau also wrote ‘How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.’ We have so much both good and bad imposing upon our lives that few of us ever have the strength, time or space to spread our wings and live. Through philosophical thought we seek to make sense of life until the day of awakening dawns when we realise that such thoughts are merely words unproven, untried and unpracticed until the day we walk out of our insulated walls into the wilderness of the unknown. We cannot understand life until we have engaged it in battle, fought with valor and stood alone victorious or defeated in the great arena of life.

One of the most beautiful aspects of travel is the community one encounters. Our western lives sometimes become sterilised by independence and seem to lack the inter-dependence of relationships between people of different ethnicities. However a short encounter had this afternoon reminded me that one does not have to travel to another continent to experience such community. As I’m preparing to pack up my house and sell my belongings in light of my travel plans, I had an Indian lady and her mother come to look at a couch I was planning to sell. Within only a few moments I was captivated by her vivacious descriptions of how she’d laid out her house, what furniture she had and the creative artistry that had gone into fashioning a home that gave expression to who she was. After seeing my renovated garage, she rang her husband and I gave them the grand tour of my house. For one hour we talked, we laughed, we discussed interior design, spherical balls, photography, India, Hinduism, Angkor Wat, the inspiration behind some of the paintings I’d done and an endless tapestry of interwoven conversations. They left me with the offer to help pack boxes even though they had known me for less than an hour. As well as endowing me with a longing to return to India, I closed the door behind them feeling that surely there is nothing more beautiful on this earth than the extended arms of humanity.