I Used To Travel A Lot

I used to travel a lot. I was in a band, and we toured the USA all the time. We went to India, went all over Europe. I always dreaded going back “home,” which was the Philadelphia Hare Krishna temple. I liked the feeling of being unglued from the Earth, as if we were living on some upper, mobile stratus of the Earth’s atmosphere. We lived like clouds, above it all, showering down good vibrations on the territorially bound.

Now, once I’ve spent a couple of weeks in one place, the idea of going anywhere strikes me as attractive as having an unnecessary tooth extraction. Yet my wife and I have lived in (let me count them now, gimme a second) at least twenty-three different places since we got together.

The more moved-in you are, the harder it is to move out. Right now, for example, we’re packing to go to India, simultaneously moving out of our latest housesit. The actual work isn’t that hard, but the finality of removing every trace of your existence is harder than if, say, we had just packed for a single overnight in a hotel. It’s like dying, or leaving one body for another. Once you’re gone, you can’t go back. It’s harsh, from one point of view. Makes me crave some kind of continuity.

Then I received a revelation today: “the more stuff you have to deal with, the more anxiety you have to go through.” I thought, “yeah! that’s right! Look at these wandering mendicants who take everything they need in a single suitcase. And they’re always traveling. What a life. Why should I subject myself to unnecessary anxiety? That’s the key! Get rid of everything!”

As usual, I had a counter-realization, with my wife’s help. Arjuna once lost all inclination to fight a war, and frankly told Krishna “I don’t want to fight. Better I just go to the forest and meditate.” Krishna wasn’t in favor of the idea. “No. Better you carry out your duty and think of Me. That’s how you’ll achieve perfection, not simply by ‘giving up’ your duties.”

I felt better about life for the rest of the day. It’s true—all the stuff I’m doing right now isn’t my own idea of a good time. I’m trying, to one degree or another, to cooperate with the plans and directions of the Supreme Controller of the Universe. His plans always work out. Mine? Not. And what am I, anyway? Just a tiny spark of Krishna’s infinite energy.

Now all I have to do is keep reminding myself of that while I’m in India, separated from my MacBook, hot water on demand, nicely paved roads, and Charmin.