Hunting for wonder: a prologue.

And thus ends nearly a month spent on the road, when work and home became the dash in between travelling.

It was a search for, well, something. Back then, it didn’t have a name, just a nagging restlessness that was translating into an annoying version of myself. I was becoming irritable, throwing tantrums and fits everywhere, finding fault in every little thing, and I couldn’t stand myself anymore. Something was wrong, and I couldn’t think straight, it wasn’t hormones, and so I went travelling.

I went back to romantic old Manila and immersed myself in my country’s treasures and memories. Then I went to Bali. Then a surfing trip in Zambales. And then a rock climbing trip in Montalban. And now I’m staying home.

I’ll get into all the lessons I learned about hunting for wonder in a bit, expound some more on the value of taking that wonderful, glorious step back from the mundane. For now, though, something needs to be said about travelling.

There’s always a little magic involved with travelling, about being in the middle of places and things and events. For me, travelling has ¬†always been that step to the side and back of things. It’s not just putting a physical distance in between me and whatever I’m going through at the moment, but an emotional, spiritual, mental, and social one. It forces me to re-evaluate, rethink, and ultimately, to become rejuvenated.

This is the part where I need to express how much I love my family (both spiritual and biological) for understanding my ¬†need to ride out this restlessness. (This is beginning to sound like a horrible acceptance speech at a minor awarding ceremony.) Especially my biological family, who are really just a bunch of vagabonds wrapped up in urbanites’ skins. My spiritual family is wonderfully awesome. Checking up on me in between my trips and gamely liking all the photos I posted on Facebook and Instagram and Twitter, and when I finally showed up, a warm welcome home like I was a balikbayan.

On another note: this is interesting for me, too. That instead of just disappearing, I left a digital bread crumb trail by constantly updating my social media sites. Because the whole point was not to get lost, but merely to survey the area. This is vastly different from my trips before when I would just want to lose myself because I couldn’t stand to be in wherever I was.

And then something must be said about coming home. Because nothing can replace hugs and cuddle-times and blasting my music as loud as I can in my room and dancing in between yoga poses because no one’s watching (NO ONE’S AROUND!) and being silent and moody and brooding and riding buses and air conditioning and the smell of my own blankets and sheets.

Okay, I think we’re ready to start now with the details of the actual hunt.

 

Read my field notes about this hunt for wonder here.

 

What do you think?