Is it necessary to ‘eat, pray, love’ yourself around the globe?
The idea of going away to find yourself is romantic and age-old. For me, this conjures up images of ashrams and jungles and relaxed, sun-damaged divorcee’s. It used to make me think of gap years, Contiki tours and vomit-stained backpacks so I guess I’m getting older. Can we really run away and find ourselves? We know that our true self lies within (and all that other bullshit people who spent 3 life-changing years in India tell us). I cant help but feel like they want to keep us out to keep it pure, hoping the stories of violent dysentery will equate to at least one less white girl with henna waiting in line for darshan next spring.
Is my desire to go to India just my ego demanding some kind of grotesque spiritual brownie points? Is it my desire to maintain the utmost respect and authenticity telling me to go to Peru to take Ayahuasca, or is it just pathetic hipster snobbery turning my nose up at taking it here in Australia? My theory is that spiritual travel might be like a long, drawn out psychedelic experience. Things look different, the air smells different and things have a certain magic and that feeling of untapped potential. Travel, in general, can give you all of this and we never want to go home just like we never want to come down. Imprinting this awe into our psyche and taking home the unshakable memory of each day’s true potential might be what we need sometimes. LSD reminds you how great clouds are and the gurus remind you what love is. It is what you do with this knowledge that counts though, because we all need to go home and chances are there will be some abandoned baggage patiently awaiting your return.