Since the beginning of the pandemic in 2020, most of us have had to stay home a lot more than we used to. Travel, while possible now, remains restrictive.
Many of us, including myself, miss the days where we had more mobility to go further, visit new places, and explore the world. Personally, I wish I could visit my parents, who live thousands of miles away.
The travel limitations, however, have also opened up a new world for me: the nearby.
What’s Right At Home
Over the last year, I started to go on more walks, to ride my bike, and to explore streets that I had previously zoomed by in my car. I discovered a pickleball court five minutes from my house. I started playing with my wife and my friends. It’s been fun.
Many squirrels scamper around where I live. I have come to enjoy observing them. Sometimes I look at them, and they look at me, while feverishly biting at a bit of food they have found. Sometimes they come in pairs, chase each other, and get lost in playing.
I drive within an hour or two to discover new towns, hiking trails, and vista points. I begin to see the variety of architecture, restaurants, and natural beauty all around.
All these things, while new to me over the past year, have always been here. This makes me wonder: why have I never paid attention to what’s right here at home? Where was I?
Anywhere But Here
Before, I used to take one or two trips with my wife every year to another state or country. While planning for these trips, I often eyed somewhere far away. I tried to “check off” places on my “bucket list.” I worked hard for 48 weeks out of the year, so I could finally have some fun. “The further I go, the happier I will be,” I thought.
When I look deeply, this mindset assumes two things.
First, that happiness is external, likely somewhere far away. I have to escape, travel long distances, and I only get to experience it for a few days once or twice a year.
Second, that there is nothing special with my immediate surroundings. What’s close by is not worthy of my attention. When given a chance, I should be somewhere else. Why stick around?
It’s one thing if I had lived somewhere I disliked, but I am blessed to live in Northern California, surrounded by the ocean, redwood trees, and awe-inspiring mountains. I am bathed in the warm sun, breathing clear air under a beautiful blue sky. People travel to California to experience these things.
Yet, for the majority of the year, my mind would be anywhere but here.
Why Somewhere Else?
The constant wish to be somewhere else is, I believe, a main source of our suffering.
For millions of years, our ancestors had to pay attention to what they lacked in order to survive: food, shelter, and safety.
While our material world has dramatically improved, our mind hasn’t evolved. What we lack always commands our attention.
Our brain perpetually scans for what’s available out there. Maybe something better is not far away, because it can’t be here, can it?
This is why even when we are with our loved ones, sometimes we still can’t help but to scroll our phone. Implied in that action, conscious or not, is that we want to escape, even for a few seconds, to a different world that promises to be better, more fun, and more interesting. The brain wants to be somewhere else.
When we chase after that something, that’s the moment when we lose what is right in front of us.
This is why we are never satisfied, even when we make more money, drive a new car, or have more possessions. What we have almost doesn’t matter. The moment we think we own something, we normalize it. We take it for granted. It becomes the new default. The brain goes searching again.
Perhaps this is why humans have long searched for the meaning of life, but often get stuck by this ultimate question. We might have thought the meaning of life was a destination somewhere far away.
But what if the meaning of life is not to arrive at a destination? Instead, what if it’s an invitation, extended to us every moment, to recommit to living fully right here in the present moment, to be with ourselves and our loved ones, in body, mind, and spirit?
What if the meaning of life is not a trick question, but a loving reminder that we can accept where we are, that we don’t have to be constantly running? What if the meaning of life is right in front of us, but we are simply too busy looking somewhere else?
What Does It Mean to Me?
Does this mean I won’t take trips far away anymore? I absolutely will, when I can do it again. I still love traveling. My desire to explore and appreciate the world remains. I also believe the world calls us to enjoy its beauty in a sustainable way.
It does mean that where I go doesn’t matter nearly as much as where my mind is. There is beauty to be discovered in somewhere remote, and right where I am. Where I direct my attention is a choice. It’s up to me.
For now, I choose to be at peace at home.