Nearly four months ago, I landed at San Francisco International Airport 6 months to the day after taking off from the same runway. In between, I made a few stopovers in Australia, New Zealand, Southeast Asia, and India. I returned a little older, a little wiser, and a little skinnier, with a few changed perspectives, a lot more memories, and a bit less hair on the top of my head.
Arriving in San Francisco, I wasn’t dreading a return to monotony, but rather, I was excited to begin a brand-new adventure in its own right. A new career. A new city. A new view. A new brother (in-law). A new normal. Waking up on my sister’s couch those first weeks upon my return, I explored San Francisco like I would any other city in my travels. I walked and biked and BART-ed and ferry-ed my way to every corner (and island) of the city I could, searching for vistas and burritos and banh mi and a proper cappuccino. I realized how much more one walks, by default, when there are sights to see and streets to explore. Heading out on my 3-4 hour walk for the day, it became very clear how I’d managed to lose 20 pounds during my travels, while never concerning myself with what I was eating, unless Thai scorpions are some kind of superfood. My adjustment back to the states was more or less seamless, with the only culture shocks coming in the form of just how quiet the streets were as compared to almost all of India, and the fact that walking down the street nobody looked at me, or even glanced, really. After 3 months of being the center of every-passerby’s attention, it was actually a bit disheartening to be ignored by all those paths I was crossing, especially when I tried my best to smile at the top of everyone’s sidewalk-fixated heads. I was rather surprised to hear that my fresh-from-New York sister was taken aback by how friendly and talkative everyone was in the city. I guess it’s all relative.
And so, I am forced to adjust to this new adventure, as I listen to shared taxi occupants talk about their latest secret app idea as opposed to the best off the beaten-path travel experience. As each conversation starts off with “What do you do?” instead of “Where are you headed?” As daily commutes of locals become far less fascinating, and a re-telling of a grand adventure can conjure up shades of resentment or one-upmanship as opposed to inspiration for an additional stop on the journey. As I blend in with the crowd on nearly every block - I adjust.
After a month of partying the nights away at multiple bachelor parties and weddings, job prospects crystallized and I found myself officially on the housing search in the least cost-logical city in the country.
Go figure.
It took some time to stomach the fact that I was about to spend a year’s worth of Southeast Asian lodging costs on my security deposit, but I guess it’s the world’s retribution for those $3 hostel rooms on the beach. As I resigned myself to the drudgery of a housing search followed by a furniture search followed by the non-stop accumulation of all the “necessary” items needed to fill a home (I’m looking at you Mr. Dish Rack), combined with an all-together lack of exploring each day, I became a bit more reflective on my feelings of discontent. All too often, the post travel hangover manifests itself with former backpackers in the form of longing, frustration, uncertainty, and dissatisfaction. The desire to go back impedes the ability to move forward. Of all the changes in perspective I experienced during my trip, one that I believe has really stuck is the understanding of what my fulfillment is rooted in. It is, at all times, attainable, regardless of locale or employment status. I can boil it down to 4 tenets:
1) Surround myself with people I love and that love me
2) Work on something that I believe positively impacts or advances the world (including self-improvement)
3) Be a part of a community
4) Enjoy the journey, the pursuit of items 1-3
This roadmap for fulfillment has changed the symptoms of my own travel hangover. Dissatisfaction of my current state doesn’t necessarily fuel my wanderlust as it used to, but rather a self-reflection on the tenets above. Instead of “Where could I be?” the introspection question becomes “What can I do?”
As of today, I’ve found the apartment I envisioned when I first arrived in San Francisco, with the Golden Gate Bridge in plain sight outside a set of bay windows, with the periodic rumble of a Cable Car passing just up the street. I’m a 5-minute walk to my sister’s place, with plenty of coffee shops, restaurants, and bars in between. Nearly all of my family is within a 3-hour drive, and I’ve already seen most on multiple occasions. Recently, I attended the baptism of my Godson, only a couple hours up the road. The aspect of travelling that always proves most difficult has been completely turned on its head, as my fundamental reasoning for moving north from Los Angeles has played out just as I’d always hoped. With my new job and career in the world of management and operations consulting, I am excited for the opportunity to greatly improve the capabilities and performance of a variety of companies that contribute to the world in which we live. While it’s been a relatively slow process getting trained and prepared, my curiosity remains at peak levels. I spent so much time working on myself during my travels, I very much look forward to bringing my best self to the variety of people I’m bound to impact with my new career.
Alas, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. It strikes me as fitting that, of all the fulfillment tenets, the one most easily attainable during travels has become the most difficult to capture since I’ve returned. Whether spoken or not, the bond formed between backpackers is as tight-knit as any. Fellow travelers are, without fail, given the benefit of the doubt in tough situations, offered places to stay, implored to share in a meal, assumed to be a worthy adventure partner, boosted by a collective strength in numbers, carried with moral support, and exactly understood in terms of internal feelings and reactions. This support, this Community, is more reliable than any sports team or church group I’ve ever been a part of. Figuring out why I felt like I was in a bit of a funk, even though I had this great new job, with a nice apartment, surrounded by my family, I landed squarely on my lack of a trusted community in my day to day life. It is a relief in and of itself to gain an understanding of what’s needed to improve your overall well-being. So, rather than sulk in my lack of community until I find it, I will choose to enjoy the process of searching for that support, that inspiration, be it from a rec-league softball team, a church group, or some unknown opportunity currently hiding around the next block. Enjoying that pursuit will prove just as rewarding and intriguing as the outcome, regardless of how long it takes. As my favorite book reminds me:
“It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.” -The Alchemist
Settled now, I hope to see as many old faces as I do new, as I build my life in familiar locales, surrounded by familiar friends, in an unfamiliar point in time.
Come say Hi, you may be part of just the community I’m looking for…