All I Can See

My Upcoming Micro-Pilgrimage

I’m leaving home in 10 days. My life right now doesn’t lend itself to a traditional multi-week-long pilgrimage. So I journey in spurts, sometimes with friends, sometimes with my husband, sometimes alone, to continue the ongoing work of uncovering the parts of me that remain hidden in familiarity, in routine. 

Between writing and working and living, I scour Google flights for cheap deals, hoard credit card points through intentional spending, and research budget travel hacks. I compile lists of places and create dream itineraries, stockpiling future journeys in the lifelong endeavor of self-discovery, self-healing, self-clarification. 

I don’t know why I’m so restless, but I straddle the tension of longing for roots and craving adventure. Not wild and fast-paced, but the untapped potential that comes with vacating home, “going out the front door.”¹ 

This time for the sake of copy.² To see all I can see. To wander and wonder. 

Perhaps it seems a bit indulgent to travel 5,600 miles for copy (even though it’s significantly cheaper for me to spend a week in Europe than in Southern California).³ But I’m trying to find myself, or at least, continue uncovering pieces of me through micro pilgrimages, short journeys I will inevitably write about (whether publicly or not).

I am wondering: who am I apart from a wife, navy spouse, and religiously ambiguous Western woman? What will I see when I try to see more? What if I book nothing but lodging and transportation? What if I arrive in new cities completely unswayed by Tripadvisor reviews or travel blogs? 

No agenda. No reservations. No looking up “can’t miss attractions” or “foods you have to try in (fill in the blank).” I want my senses and curiosity to guide me from city to city. I’m risking eating “bad food” (without the safety net of looking up restaurant ratings beforehand), accumulating extra blisters, getting a little bit lost. I want to release my grip and allow the surroundings and unplanned encounters to lead and inspire me. Really, I want to be de-influenced by other travelers and untether myself from the control that often plagues me.

Perhaps it’ll be mostly mundane—not the same sort of mundane that happens in the daily life of familiarity, but the mundane of slow movement, early mornings, simple meals. A mundane I welcome wholeheartedly.

I think we’re conditioned to expect transformational experiences that happen immediately, as if transformation is always chaotic, abrupt, and life-changing. But often, transformation and metamorphosis is slow, microscopic, the compilation of encounters and flavors, interactions and time. I’m not expecting this trip to be life-changing, but I am hoping it’ll be life-shaping. That I’ll uncover new aspects of my being on the road to continued self-knowing.

As I move, I will write, sharing reflections and stories here for both the free and paid sides of Substack. 

Writing peels back the protective layer of a self most people (largely, non-writers) keep intact. Writing reveals a segment of our souls that often surprises our readers, especially those who know us best. “I never knew you felt this way,” we hear. I didn’t know I felt this way until I started writing. And went to therapy. And then wrote about going to therapy. And saw more of the world bit by bit by bit. 

I’ll write micro essays here daily starting March 5 and post photos and reflections on Instagram as well. I hope you’ll follow along and share your own stories of pilgrimage and place. May we see all we can see together.

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“Those who journey can easily understand / the more they see the more they’ll learn / the more they will be” — Brendan James, All I Can See

1. Quote from J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic The Lord of the Rings

2. Nora Ephron famously said, “Everything is copy.” Over the last few weeks, I’ve had fascinating conversations with writer friends about the ethics of mining our lives for copy, for story. As writers, sometimes we seek out opportunities to specifically challenge our minds, introduce a set of newness, engage to purposefully create. This upcoming journey is just that—an opportunity to immerse myself and write about it.

3. Up until last year, when I still only had one stamp in my passport and a long ass bucket list, I struggled with people who wrote and shared and talked about travel because it seemed so beyond reach for me. But about two years ago, I met my friend

Amy Colón

who taught me about affordable travel (I’ll actually be spending a few days with her during this trip). I was able to use my airline miles and hotel points, making the majority of this trip nearly free except for some taxes inevitable food costs, and some local transportation costs. This is the only reason I’ve been able to travel and gives me hope for future travel and future travel writing.