Traveling

I've been thinking about why we travel, why I travel. There are lots of reasons on the surface; see exotic places, meet people with different cultural backgrounds, and the last, discover ourselves. That last one, discovering me, is what I have been aware of the most these last few days.



I heard a story a long time ago, about fleas. Apparently, fleas can jump about three feet high, which explains a lot. Anyway, according to this story, if you put fleas in a mason jar and secure the lid, fairly quickly, fleas will only jump slightly less than the lid so that they don't keep hitting their flea brains on it. The spooky part is, after some time (and I apologize for not knowing the data-how long exactly) if you take the lid off the jar, the fleas won't jump out but will continue to jump just a little less than where the lid once was.



I feel a bit like the flea that discovered the lid was gone. I am nervous. All this potential jumping, all this potential freedom. If I am not a worker, not a mom, grandmother, who am I? If I am not being productive (and here I tip my hat to my mother) what do I do that matters and what makes it matter?



The other day I was talking with Tamdrin about the mala, or the Buddhist rosary that monks wear on their arms and Buddhists use to count the repitition of mantras to insure that the mantra is said 108 times or multiples of 108. I told him I wanted to buy one and he told me that if I did, I would have to decide which mantra I would say. He said there are three mantras, one that asks for my awakening, the second that asks for the awakening of myself and those I bring with me and the third, that requests awakening for everyone else so that they don't return to this world of suffering but which says that I will stay, helping, until everyone is free. That gave me pause. If I am free to jump out, the first thought is to jump. The next thought is that I want everyone I know and love to jump with me. But the third, hang out until everyone jumps? It gave me pause.

In that I am not sure I have figured out how to jump out, I am still mulling this question. It raises so many questions. What does help others, how do I communicate, assuming I even know, what will make things better? Maybe life is a series of jars, each a bit bigger than the last. As I contemplate jumping out of old roles and expanding who I am, I am, according to the Buddhists, still in the world of suffering. But then again, maybe to make big jumps, one must start with small ones.

So, travel makes me aware that the lid is off, always has been, or at least has been for longer than I realized. Jumping higher is scary, exhilerating, exhausting, invigorating.

I suppose, being in Nepal, I should beep. I am jumping.