One final thing I was grateful for this Thanksgiving was the community of writers and artists I have become a part of, scattered though we are across the globe. The friends I have made are wondrously talented and are a constant source of inspiration to me.
Posts tagged ‘travel’
While I so enjoyed sharing stories and lessons from the Evliya Çelebi Way with you, now I’d like to get a little more practical. What follows is a round up of information I hope you’ll find useful, should you be interested in walking the route yourself.
Whether you’re celebrating Thanksgiving today or not, I hope you find a bit of time to say your own prayer of gratitude. For life’s many crazy blessings, for new cities to explore, for the gift of home, and of course, for pumpkin pie.
I will be leaving Turkey grateful for this unexpected lesson in navigation. We have to trust that the direction our compass is pointing in – whether what lies ahead is a less defined path, or perhaps there’s no path at all – is worth taking. It always is.
Having walked alone these last three weeks, another shadow moving next to mine made for quite a change. Yet again, the path had gone in a different direction from my expectations – the lesson then, I think, might lay in the space between.
The shepherd walked with a grace I won’t soon forget, with a grace I hope to carry into all parts of my own path through life. The sight of him with his flock was worth walking three days to see, and will be worth walking another twenty for.
Travel is funny like that sometimes, isn’t it? Giving us these oddly scheduled arrivals and strange pockets of time in which to explore a new country; in-between places that will pass through us as quickly as we pass through them.
I’m overwhelmed by everything I will never understand about Stan’s story – what it means to lose a parent so soon in your life, what it means to hear enemy tanks encircling your city at night – and by the simple yet poignant wisdom he now shares with me.
And so it was that I decided to return to Iž, to circle back to who I was the last time I was here. I wanted to sketch the island again – and to honor the crazy journeys that life delights in sending us on. As I sketched, all I could think was: thank you.
I decided that when Sanel does in fact realize his dream of drinking in an Irish pub, he won’t be disappointed. It was warm, it was human, it was the feeling of many people in a small room. And when you thought about it, you could almost smell the coast.