smileytraveler

Somewhere in Florida

Ireland is a blur. I didn't marvel, didn't take a single photo, didn't get as excited about “different” stuff as I usually do. Sounds terrible, right?

I suppose it does sound pretty awful, but I know exactly why I was stricken with a bad case of meh. It all comes down to the way I travel now and what gives me true joy when going off to faraway – or not so faraway – places.

Look, I've traveled so much and been in so many different cities that simply putting boots on the ground and looking at shit just doesn't do it for me anymore. I mean, that's not 100% true. I do get joy marveling at Willamette Falls, no matter how many times I visit, or the European Gothic architecture we have very little of here in the New World.

A few years ago I renounced something I call “frenzied travel”. A style of travel characterized by anxiously jumping from place to place, shoehorning in is many sights, sounds, and stuff as possible, so as not to miss anything. Please understand I'm not making judgement on anyone who chooses to travel this way, but after a few years of doing things this way because I didn't give myself the time to ponder, explore, and enjoy, I was left with an empty feeling upon leaving.

Travel became something unpleasant. I became bitter. What the hell have I worked so hard for? This kinda sucks.

But like 99.9999% of things in life, when one is unsatisfied or disappointed by their circumstances, all it takes is a change of mindset. (The willingness to experiment, even if there's a good chance of failure, doesn't hurt either.)

Since I was with a huge group in Ireland, I sensed frenzy immediately, and like the bitch I am, shrank into my seat, shut my mouth, and vowed to stay along for the ride. This was a terrible idea. I should have gone home immediately. I have no right to ruin everyone else's good time.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me but I swear to all that is holy, I have pure intentions. I wasn't in the mood to travel. I was sleep-deprived. I just wasn't in the right place.

It certainly didn't help that nobody even wants to have face-to-face conversations anymore, preferring rather to view and absorb the world – and other human beings – through a tiny piece of metal and glass. I can't compete with all the action and attention on the other end of that thing. Apparently, I'm not interesting enough.

That's all I got.

Wander and chill

I can't remember the first time I tried, I dunno...we'll call it freestyle travel. It was years ago and I have no idea where I was. It's possible Michael A. Singer's book The Surrender Experiment had something to do with it, but again, who knows.

I finished my work for the day and was ready to head out. I couldn't bring myself to “find” something to do, or plan anything. I want to blame this on laziness, but frankly I think I just didn't care anymore.

Let's engage in some serendipity today, shall we? So I just marched myself out the door to wander aimlessly and let life happen to me. It was great. I went so slowly that I actually got to talk to people, notice enchanting little things about the city, and didn't mind sitting down at a sidewalk cafe for half the afternoon just to people-watch.

This place isn't going anywhere, I thought. Just freakin' relax!

Traveling this way snapped on a light switch. It was like wandering out of dreary Kansas into Technicolor Oz. Enjoyment flooded back.

There's always a catch

A huge catch. When this began it was the first time I'd ever travelled alone. I want to say it was my choice, but it wasn't. I didn't want to travel alone; I always want a buddy, soulmate, travel partner, etc. by my side. I was highly uncomfortable, awkward. I always felt like people were staring at me. I felt like a target for crime.

But like anything, practice makes perfect. Once I got over the awkward hump I couldn't imagine traveling any other way. Being solo changes everything. There's nobody to confer with, nobody to please, nobody who gets tired, grumpy, or bored. You are 100% in control of your destiny and pleasure.

However, there's also nobody to talk to. Nobody who has your back if something goes wrong. You will most-assuredly feel vulnerable and exposed. But over time, you'll become quite hardened, cautious, almost warrior-like. You'll also become a social and conversational genius!!!

Today, I can go up to anyone and start a conversation about anything. I can engage them, ask them questions, and sometimes even make a new friend to stay in touch with long-term.

Traveling with others is a crutch to putting yourself out there and talking to the locals. Same thing at parties. Holy Moses, talk about awkward. I can go to parties, conferences, and events alone now, too. I don't have to rely on those I trusted to show up and be my date to come through...'cause they quite often cancel at the last minute. (Apparently reliability is no longer a skill society values.)

What I'm getting to is that I have the ability – the skill – of going into the most lonely, awkward situations and making the most of them. And I owe this all to being introduced to serendipitous, solo travel...against my will.

Working Out, Not Just for Muscles Anymore

Social skills are like muscles. You must train them and then maintain them. And, like muscles, they will grow stronger and healthier with time and practice.

When I hear people on the internets bitching about not having social skills and being awkward and lonely and depressed, I wanna be like the wise, old, badass grandma who goes in and tells it like it is:

I dunno what to tell you, sweetheart. But sitting by yourself, at home, on a computer is not going to make it any better. A good first step is cleaning yo ass up, getting out of the house, and being social.

It really is that simple, I promise. Is it extremely, horrifyingly difficult? Hell, yes! Will you feel like you want to die from awkwardness for the first few years? I can almost GUARANTEE it. Actually, as someone who's never had trouble being charming and conversing around other people, and who still feels awkward sometimes, I can't even imagine how shitty it's going to be for you if you're shy. You'll probably want to bring a burlap sack so you can hide in it, tie a knot at the top, and then jump off a cliff. Just sayin'.

But what are the choices here? You alone have to decide which scenario is worse: being alone and depressed, or awkward and death-wishy with perhaps only a slight chance of great social skills forming.

I do know this: there's only ONE way to find out, right?