Travel is picking up. Layers of feelings accompany travel prep, especially for folks who have been isolated for so long. A client shared with me that she and her spouse recently took their first trip in a year and a half. Pre-pandemic, these two were what you would call a travelin’ pair, so it was extremely challenging for them to be homebound for so long.
My client shared that their experience felt both normal and weird (there it is again, that inevitable “both/and” tension we must constantly hold: https://www.coachduprey.com/blog/hold-the-tension). They drove through mountains and deserts, experiencing breathtaking views they had never seen before. They ate out at restaurants, stayed in hotels, and enjoyed ice cream and fun desserts that make vacations that much sweeter. And they walked. I could picture the freedom and exhilaration they experienced as she described a cobbly (that’s a word, right?) street they strolled across in a bustling summer city. I imagined the sense of relief they likely felt, the excitement of exploring new spaces again and meeting new people.
Then she tripped on the cobblestones. And she fell. Flat on her face.
She kept noting that it could have been worse, that she was grateful it wasn’t worse, but still, she fell. And it hurt. Her glasses broke. Her phone shattered. She needed stitches. I could tell at first that maybe she was a bit embarrassed to share all this. There is nothing to be embarrassed about, though, when we fall on our faces, when we get hurt. I asked her what it made her think about as far as her faith and the “bigger picture.”
After a long pause, she shared that it really made her think about how fragile life is, how things can happen so quickly, without warning. She said we humans are not made for isolation, but risk is involved when we venture out. When we engage in the world there is a good chance we will (literally!) fall on our faces. She pondered about how the visual of falling on one’s face feels analogous to all the losses, all the grief—personal and collective—experienced over the last year and a half.
Wow. Spot on.
As you prepare to, or continue to, travel and re-engage in pre-pandemic activities I encourage you to think through these questions:
What experiences have you had with “falling flat on your face?”
How have you processed these falls?
What have you learned about yourself through your falls?
How do you get back up (or have you been able to get back up yet)?
How might you offer a hand to someone else who has fallen?
How can we encourage ourselves and others when we feel uncertain about our next steps?
And when you fall on your face—literally or figuratively—be comforted that you are not alone, and be encouraged that it is worth it to get back up again (and again . . . )!
