Lanterns and Lighthouses

miss: to discover or feel the absence of

Being able to leave my bathroom supplies out, on the counter and in the shower. You've all asked and that's it - that's the number one thing I miss about back home. Trivial, sure, but truth. You've heard it before: it's the little things you miss the most. 

I feel the absence of the familiar. It's not surprising - I could have told you that before I began all this. Easy.

But what have I discovered the absence of?

Growing up, my Dad always left the outside lights on when he knew we were coming home later in the night. Out in the country, they seem to burn brighter, cased in lantern style cases. He still does it to this day. Of course, as technology has evolved, automatic motion detecting lights have come around - we have those as well. However, somehow it's different knowing that someone turned that light on for you as a guide and a welcome. You know you're home. It's warming. 

Backpacking, at least in the fast-paced solo way that I'm doing it, is about sparks. You meet people - LOTS of people. Great, good, and eh people.  You meet people that you love and hope to see again and you meet people that you could go without seeing ever again. Either way though, it's just a spark - a flicker of something, of someone. And then it's gone. It can be ... lonely. 

Yuck. I HATE that word. It's not a word that I like to use, especially towards myself. I'm fully aware that there's a difference between being alone and being lonely - I've walked that line my entire life.  

I'm sure it's annoying how much I say this but I'm going to go ahead and say it again anyway. I'm a very independent person and I always have been. I'm an introvert and prefer books and coffee shops to parties and concerts (not saying that I don't enjoy parties and concerts - but, if I had to choose forever ...). Spending a weekend reading doesn't make me sad - it can be very refreshing. Traveling alone has probably been much easier for me than it has been or would be for others. I'm not putting those people down - in fact, I'm starting to realize that it is possible to be independent to a fault. When does saying I'm independent become an excuse for building up walls? ... but that's a topic for another time.

Why is it so hard to admit that I get lonely? Pride? Probably. It would drive me nuts if I felt like someone thought I wasn't thankful for this journey I'm on. Vulnerability? Definitely. For the past week or so I've felt off. Not in a heavy way. I've been functioning just fine. In fact, more than fine., so don't call in the cavalry just yet. Japan is absolutely incredible. I miss it and I haven't even left. But nevertheless, I've had the sense that something is bothering me. Nagging.

It's like when you're sure someone is watching you, so sure that your heart rate actually picks up, but when you look around there's no one there. 

That's loneliness. 

The sparks are beautiful, distracting, special and although they burn bright, they burn fast. Sometimes they grow into something more, sure, but more than often they don't. And even if they seem to have potential, I move on - quite literally. 

I miss the lantern, burning bright, steady and familiar. I miss having a few glasses of wine with a friend who I've known for years not minutes - one where the conversation can pickup in the middle of any story, instead of being a repeat of the same old greeting over and over again. I miss running into someone I know in the grocery store. I miss the gossip at the coffee machines. I miss Sunday dinners at my parent's house with the family. I am lonely for those things, despite everything.

However, I am aware that even though I can't see them all now, those lanterns are still burning. They are waiting for me to get close enough to see them on the horizon - serving more like a lighthouse for me during this part of my life.

The world is large and I'm not even close to done exploring it. This isn't some sort of cry for help - I promise. It's actually, I guess, more of a thank you. A thank you to all of my lanterns and lighthouses - you know who you are. Thank you for your light. For although I'm not always heading in the direction of your light, I'm always guided and reassured by it. Especially when I'm lonely. As loneliness, I've discovered, is impossible to avoid. In fact, I think it's a big part of what this entire journey will mean to me one day, someday, when I can take a step back from it all. 

Be a lantern burning
Never gonna go out
Oh, the winds are turning
Never gonna blow out
I've had a life of learning
I know people come and go
Be a lantern burning
Your fire burns low

Be my lighthouse shining
Out on the sea
Be my silver lining
Be my golden key
I've had a life of climbing
Don't let me fall from the trees
Be my lighthouse shining
When I'm out on the sea

-Passenger