The Observer
The Beauty of Seville, Spain
Kim Eastburn in Seville, Spain
This month, I find myself writing in one of the most beautiful cities in the world: Seville, Spain. There are many places on this earth that are magical and stunningly beautiful, and Seville is among them. If she were in human form, she would surely be a goddess.
Sitting in this tiny cafe on a cobbled side street shaded by orange trees, I am thinking about a conversation I had with a friend who recently traveled abroad for the first time. Upon her return, she could not contain her excitement and called to tell me she finally understood why I like to travel so much. Her horizons were broadened from the routine of the people and places she experiences on a daily basis, and she is forever expanded and changed.
Traveling gives us two options - to experience the world as a tourist, seeing only the highlights, staying in chain hotels, eating food that is familiar to us, with people who look like us. Or to travel as an observer of the world, exploring the ways we are all unique in our cultures and beliefs and not making judgments on the differences. I prefer the latter because it expands my view of life, the world, and myself. Traveling and seeing the others we share this planet with makes us question the programmed beliefs and customs that our own cultures convince us we are. It helps us to see our common humanity.
A Citizen of the World
Flowers in Greece
Socrates said, “I am not an Athenian or a Greek. I am a citizen of the world”. I have adapted that same credo. Doing so has allowed me to see that the hideous drive for war, the ridiculousness of boundaries and borders, the disgust of prejudice, and the destruction of the natural world driven by greed and apathy are crimes that we would all be ashamed of if we lifted our heads up from our small, known worlds from time to time.
While I have seen many places of architectural and natural wonder, my biggest takeaway has always been the interactions I have had with my fellow humans, interactions I would never have experienced had I not wandered off the beaten paths. I would never have met Maria, who gave me cigars in her humble apartment in Havana, or had a 3-hour conversation with JJ about art and philosophy in Cartagena (using the Google translation app), seen youths in Kerola, India piercing their bodies in a frenzied, exalted, religious rite. I would not have wept next to my friend (who is an orthodox Jew) as our hands touched the Western wall and the shofar sounded during the last prayers of Yom Kippur. I would not have shared the confidences of countless strangers who needed an ear to hear their stories or a heart to share their joy and pain. I would not have friends in all corners of the world, and I would not have prayed (I am not religious), slept, wept, ate, and loved in ways that have forever shaped who I am.
If I had not traveled, I would have left this life the same person I was as I entered it, having never evolved.
If I did not travel, I would die having never truly lived.
At this point in my journey, I have decided to continue this life as a traveler—an observer—not married to a fixed point or perspective. I will continue to have gratitude for this body, which is the vehicle of these journeys, for the mind that stays curious and open, and for the heart that keeps growing and is brave enough to entertain what and whom the universe wants to bring to me.
I will keep traveling as long as I am able. And I will let the world, its mystery, and its people unfold and continue to show me who I am.
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