I don't know where to begin when I try to wrap my head around the whirlwind of the past year. Mainly, I feel overwhelming gratitude that I was able to embark upon this adventure. But I also find my brain constantly buzzing, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to put together the pieces of this massive puzzle.
I have seen so much, and not nearly enough. I keep finding myself trying to conceptualize the fact that as I write this, the pristine Sierra Nevada mountains are quietly thawing for the summer hikers, the Vietnamese of the Mekong Delta are heading out to work on the floating markets, Cambodian villagers are packing small rickety boats with their motorbikes, Indian kids selling giant balloons (seriously giant balloons) are side-stepping beggars as they make their way through the crowded streets of New Delhi, people in France are sipping their wine and tending their farms, and Adam and I are - currently - on a plane heading home. How can all of this be happening at this very moment? How can all of those realities exist? It's mind boggling.
So, what does one learn from taking a year off? Is there anything to gain besides an impressive photo reel and an even more impressive decline in your savings account?
The answer is unequivocally yes.
To begin, taking a year off from working can be a real resume booster. I am both kidding and also, not. Some prime resume skill sets get honed by the daily trials of a traveler's/hiker's life. Here's how this might look on our future resumes:
To show adaptability in the face of challenges and a penchant for logistics, planning and budgeting.
-Organized and implemented a last minute pilgrimage through the French countryside while in India with little reliable access to internet, and no access to books or other forms of information.
To illustrate creative problem solving skills:
-Planned and executed a hiking schedule and 55 mile hitchhiking plan that would allow us to watch the Oakland Raider's opening game as a brief hiatus from hiking the Pacific Crest Trail.
To demonstrate an ability to have a positive attitude and be a team player:
-Successfully maintained an exceptionally happy marriage during 365 days of near constant interaction with my significant other.
Much more importantly, however, a year off provides time to actually think about what it is you value, what you are looking for from life, what habits you want to develop and which you would rather leave behind. It gives you a "big picture" view of life, instead of the murky close-up that often, at least for me, appears pixelated. By stepping back from the day to day, you begin to see things a bit more clearly.
So, what does all that mean for me?
I definitely came home with a long list of habits to develop and habits to drop. I am convinced of the healing and meditative quality of taking walks, both long ones and short ones. I have fully embraced my own voracious hunger for books, specifically non-fiction. Reading, learning, walking, thinking. These are habits I hope to continue to refine.
I am also convinced of the evils of internet addiction. Even my "noble" pursuits (i.e. news websites) are really just time passing addictions that make me feel like I'm being productive when I'm not. Both the obsessive browsing and the obsessive need to feel productive are habits I'd like to kick. In their place, I would like to make more time to be quiet. Thinking, contemplating, imagining... these are all valid pursuits that look a whole lot like doing nothing, but they do wonders for my mental health.
I also learned some cliche life lessons. Nothing particularly profound, and nothing I hadn't read or been told before, but the lessons get unceremoniously hammered into your head when you throw your life to the wind. And they start to become more than cliches: they start to become habits of mind.
I learned that from far away, the "big" things appear small and the "small" things feel much much bigger. Up close, things like career and status seem very "big". They hold a weight that is often unequal to the happiness they produce. From far away, the value of family, friends, relationships, and lifestyle take on supreme importance. These are the things we take for granted at home. It's not that we actually think they are of small importance, but they consume a smaller amount of our focus because they are easier to neglect. It's easy to put off pursuing that positive lifestyle change, or to say you will work on this or that relationship later. But those are the things that, from far away, when the picture is clear, you realize are the most pressing.
I learned to say yes. This is ultimately the premise underlying the whole "it'd be rude not to" mentality. Saying yes is a way of making yourself open to new and exciting possibilities. Every day of walking on the PCT was an act of saying yes. Saying yes to the pain and the joy that the day would bring. Sometimes saying yes meant feeling a little uncomfortable and going to a wedding in a tiny village where no one speaks your language. And sometimes it meant saying yes to alternative plans, like hiking the Chemin de St. Jacques instead of the Himalayas. That was not necessarily where we had planned on ending up, but we decided to adopt that plan with a full and happy heart. We said yes, and we had an amazing time.
Saying yes is more than just latching onto whatever possibility comes your way. It is about assessing situations, and being willing to throw yourself happily into the unknown, expecting the best possible outcomes. We said a lot of yes this year.
My dad gave me some parting words of wisdom over the phone before I left: he said "don't trust anyone." I'm pretty sure he was kidding, and naturally he was more than a little concerned about his daughter leaving the country for six months. But I have thought a lot about what he said. Trusting no one does make you far less likely to get screwed in the grand scheme of things. And there are plenty of people out there waiting to screw you over (New Delhi, I'm talking to you!). But trusting no one is ultimately just limiting yourself. I didn't like who I was in New Delhi when my guard was constantly up and I assumed the worst in everyone. Ultimately, for me, getting screwed sometimes is a small price to pay for airing on the side of trust in human goodness. Because there are a lot of good people out there...
Case in point:
On our last full day of walking through France, Adam and I were picnicking in a town center, a cobble stoned square filled with small tables and chairs at which well-dressed diners were partaking in a Sunday brunch of wine, steak and generally fine meals. Adam and I were seated by the fountain in the center, sneakers off, eating our slightly less refined avocado sandwiches and enjoying a cheap grocery store beer. It was perfectly natural for us - walkers that is - to be there, but it was still an interesting juxtaposition. As we finished up our lunch, a young woman got up from her table and approached us. She was dressed in all black, very baggy pants, and a tight black tank top. She had dark black hair and pale skin, a half shaved head, facial piercings, and a hand-rolled cigarette in her hand.
She gave us a big smile and asked us, in French, if we would like a crepe. In a bit of stunned confusion, we said, yes, we would love a crepe. Because who says no to a crepe?
She proceeded to walk back to the restaurant, and order two Argmanac crepes (a specialty of the region) from the hostess motioning to Adam and I, sitting on the ground by the fountain. It was such a simple and honest act of kindness. She just wanted us to try a crepe, and maybe we looked like we could use one. Who knows, but the crepe was delicious, and our benefactor looked delighted at our enjoyment.This one simple moment crystalized the notion that when life throws you a bone - or in this case, a crepe, you have to take it. When you have the opportunity to take a hike, see the world, learn a new skill, or read a good book, take it. Say yes. Keep things in perspective. Trust people. All will be well.