The Isolating Part of Traveling Alone That No One Talks About
I arrived in Tokyo a week and a half ago on a solo mission to gather research for my current film project and discover more about myself and the world at large. I’m a frequent solo traveler and I believe in the enlightenment that comes from exploring on your own.
I've always wanted to come to Japan, and being here is a dream come true. There is honestly so much about being here that I’m in total awe of.
However, when I’m traveling by myself, there’s usually a moment when a sense of existential dread and feelings of loneliness creep in from being out in the world all alone this way.
When walking back to my hotel one night from the train I started to think, “What am I really doing here?” “Why would I throw myself into the wind in the hopes that it will carry me?” “What if this is all just a big leap for the sake of leaping?”
It takes immense courage and strength to dive deep into the unknown this way; To explore without a guarantee of anything, any discoveries or revelations. Those are the goals, of course, but there’s no way to know that a leap of faith will be fruitful.
I found myself sobbing on the streets, having this small moment of doubt and fear: A fear within myself of feeling exposed and vulnerable, wanting to go back to security, to a seemingly safer life; Thinking, “Why must I take this risk?”
I have found that it’s all a part of the journey.
The dread, the doubt, the part where you freak out and wonder why you threw yourself out into the world to begin with is all a part of it.
I love traveling by myself, I really do, but this is the pivotal part of doing something as frightening as traveling to a foreign country alone that we don’t talk about enough: The moment of complete sorrow in isolation within a crowded world.
As I sat in my realizations, eyes full of tears going on for hours, feeling the weight of that truth (the truth that I am actually afraid), I was faced with a choice to feel this fear and go on or run back to my safety net; which, to me, is just an illusion.
I have made the bold choice to move out of my home and rely on the kindness of the Earth, the gifts I could not have foreseen, literally living on a wing and prayer.
How can we find stability and faith in a life like this?
I had to spend conscious time that night journaling about what was coming up for me since it felt so heavy and quite frankly contradictory. I am living a free-spirited life and experiencing so much joy and newness, and at the same time being faced with sadness.
I spent time feeling into my body, stretching, and listening to the innermost reaches of my bones. I took time to draw pictures of what I could see in my mind that was torturous. I reminded myself that what I am feeling is not unique to any human experience and that there is someone somewhere feeling the same.
There are ways to alchemize this pain. We can experience joy and pain in the same breath. It is what we choose to focus on that counts, and I want to cultivate more of the joyous parts because I truly believe that's what we’re here for.
Transmuting the loneliness and doubt into something tangible, like writing and sketches and light body movement is what helps me most. Then it’s not just sitting there inside of me spirling and taunting my innermost thoughts. Tokyo is a crowded place, full of lonely people and I can feel that.
My first thought was that I should just leave Tokyo but in reality, it was not the place that needed to change, but me. I must find the strength within myself to face myself fully and swim with the current downstream. Come back to center and know that I am never truly alone. I have faith in the infinite Source that carried me all this way and continues to guide me when I choose to listen.
So I slow down even more, and create the space for the truth to reveal itself: The truth of being held by the Universe, Mother Goddess, the Allfather, my Spirit guides who are rooting for me, always, and are always waiting for me to turn my face toward their Guidance.
If you don’t have faith in the larger forces at play in this world, it will be harder to carry on in these dark moments.
I know, for me, I can always come back to myself and my power as a creator to lean on. I don’t know what the future holds in living such an unconventional life, but I am learning more and more each day to be okay with that.
As artists, as alchemists, it is our duty to allow these nuances to flow through us and share their interpretations with the world that we may find connection within each other.
To know that we are all in this crazy world together and there is a language we can share: The language of the soul of the world.
Each day is a new opportunity to do just that.
