travel

Homecoming

/ nagneberg48 / 7 Comments

May 14, 2024

Wednesday evening we returned from a road trip visiting our son and daughter-in-love in Cleveland and then a few days roaming in Michigan. A good trip, for sure, but oh, how wonderful to open the front door of our home and proclaim to the House Gods, “We’re back.” That was at 6:00 pm and by 7:00 we had unpacked, bags put away and washing machine chugging with our dirty laundry.

We are good returnees. You see, for us being home is even better than returning home.

My husband and I are homebodies. No doubt about it.

My husband hometends–or should I say garden tends–and he has been communing in the garden most daylight hours since our return. He also hometends for others when he paints discarded furniture, giving each piece a new and even more creative life. In June he will have his annual garage sale, the fruits of his winter labors, and all proceeds go to support Lutheran Social Services programs for youth experiencing homelessness.

I’m the interior hometender —hometending as a kind of spiritual practice, which I have written about before in this blog. How glad I am that before we left on this recent road trip I pushed myself to leave the house “return ready.” I’m not quite the perfectionist, however, as a friend who vacuums herself out the backdoor into the garage when she leaves on a trip, but I do like knowing that a clean and welcoming home waits for me when I cross the threshold. Besides, there is always enough to do upon returning without needing to clean the bathroom.

I have also realized over the years that my work as a spiritual director is a kind of hometending, too. I help others know the home within; the home always available. That’s a subject for another post.

Reflections Upon Returning

Being away from home opens space for new thoughts and clarifying realizations, which sometimes crystallize once the bags are unpacked. For example, on this trip we discovered that we enjoy roaming on the way to a destination–in this case, our kids’ home–but as we head back towards home we just want to get home. Be home. We will remember this the next trip.

I also realized that even though we lived In Cleveland for 14 years ourselves, going there now is no longer about returning to where we once lived, but visiting where our kids live. This is their home, and we are their guests, enjoying Cleveland through their eyes and hearts. That feels like a shift.

Resuming Routines

The morning after our return my husband worked in the garden, and I grocery shopped and did a variety of other errands. Our normal routine is for each of us to do our own thing during the day, sharing the day’s events and thoughts with one another at suppertime. That works for us, and we eased right back into that pattern.

At the same time we are not quite the same people we were before we left on this road trip. Road trips change us, even if those changes are not immediately recognizable. We now hold new memories. We are now more aware of who we are now and what we most need to live fully right now. We bring deeper gratitude to these days, whether they are ones on the road or ones at home.

It is good to be home.

An Invitation

What are your routines when you return home? I would love to know.

Reflections on a Road Trip: Nashville, Cincinnati, and Cleveland

/ nagneberg48 / 6 Comments

October 10, 2023

The Ohio River.

Our granddaughter is spending first semester of her junior year of college in Greece. Many people have asked us if we are planning to visit her, and I have responded by saying, “This is Maren’s adventure, and we will be her most interested, enthusiastic, and avid listeners when she returns home.” Some people seem puzzled by my answer, but others nod in understanding. One person said to me, “How wise. This is her time.” Now I should add that her parents and brother will be visiting her, but that is a different dynamic, and we are thrilled they have that opportunity.

Our days of international travel are done. We had some amazing trips to Bucket List places, but our sights have turned more inward–as in within the borders of this country. More manageable, but no less interesting or valuable, I think. This recent road trip is an example.

In the fall we enjoy driving to Cleveland to visit our beloved son and daughter-in-love. This year we decided to meander a bit before landing in Cleveland. On my Bookstore Bucket List was Ann Patchett’s bookstore, Parnassus Books in Nashville. (See my Thursday, October 5 post.) Also, a friend had recently visited and recommended the National Underground Railroad Museum in Cincinnati. The itinerary became clear.

This is What I Didn’t Do

  • Take enough pictures.
  • Clean/cook/do laundry.
  • Check email. Well, that isn’t exactly true, but rather I didn’t respond to email or read what wasn’t absolutely necessary.
  • Meditate, except to gaze out the car windows.
  • Write in my journal or do any writing at all. I didn’t do any planning of future classes either.
  • Watch any tv, YouTube videos, or even listen to much on the radio.
  • Sleep very well, but I slept well enough. Why is it I wonder why so many hotels have such high beds, which are not easy for those of us who are old and short?
  • Buy any souvenirs.
  • Worry about the week after vacation.

This is What I Did Do

  • Relaxed
  • Enjoyed the drive, except for the traffic in Nashville.
  • Read during our quiet evenings.
  • Appreciated good food fixed by other people: True Food in Nashville; Eagle Food and Beer, Skyline Chili and Graetner’s Ice Cream in Cincinnati; and Mama Catana’s and Brew Dog in Cleveland.
  • Did my part to support independent bookstores.
  • Loved our spacious and leisurely time with our son and daughter-in-love. Catching up and moving forward in one another’s lives. The best.
  • Wandered in and out of interesting shops, including City Farmhouse in Franklin, TN and Patina Home and Garden in Leipers Fork, TN. In both cases I have home decor books written by the owners and enjoyed meeting them in person. I am always inspired by well-curated shops, but realize more and more how my needs and desires have become more spare.
How fun to see “my” vintage turkey plates for sale and so beautifully displayed.
  • Reminisced about our years in Cleveland. Returning there is always bittersweet–we loved our years at Sweetwater Farm, but the decision to return “home” was a good one. However, we miss our Cleveland kids.
  • Wondered why more hotels can’t have personality like Graduate in Cincinnati.
  • Entertained new thoughts and just let them flow. Who knows where they will take me.
  • Appreciated the variety of colors and textures at the Cincinnati Conservatory.
  • Made a new friend.

Here’s What Expanded Me, Moved Me, Opened Me: The National Underground Railroad Freedom Center in Cincinnati

The mission of this museum, which opened in 2004, is “to pursue inclusive freedom by promoting social justice for all, building on the principles of the Underground Railroad.” We spent over three hours in the museum and could have stayed even longer, but our hearts and minds overflowed and ached with all we learned about the history of enslavement and the resulting urge for freedom.

Perhaps I was most moved by the Slave Pen, built in the 1800s by Kentucky slave trader, Capt. John W. Anderson to temporarily warehouse enslaved people, as many as 300 at a time in a space no larger than our garage, until they were sold further south. The structure, which was discovered in Mason, KY, less than 60 miles from the museum, was moved piece by piece and rebuilt inside the museum. A sacred place.

At one point we sat and waited for one of the recommended films to begin and I overheard a conversation among two groups of visitors. It turns out they were all from Wisconsin. We could easily have joined in the conversation, but no, they weren’t talking about this experience. Rather, they were talking about the Green Bay Packers. Really? I thought later, as I stood on the terrace where there is a flame, which will stay lit until there is justice for all, how important it is to learn about our history, for only then can we create a new history for those who come after us.

Gazing at the Ohio River, once the border between a free state and the slave state of Kentucky, I thought about all the ways there are still barriers between those who are free and those who are not.

Home, Again

Of course, it is always good to get home–otherwise, it wouldn’t be home, but the value of travel, whether near or far, is not what you’ve seen or done, not what items on the bucket list you’ve checked off. Rather, how have you changed? How have you grown? And what does that mean in the way you live your life? I sort through that as I continue to reflect.

An Invitation

What role has travel played in your life? I would love to know.

Re-entry: Thoughts Post Road Trip

/ nagneberg48 / 4 Comments

The road is never long when the goal is time with a grandchild.

My husband and I volunteered to bring our granddaughter Maren home from her first year at Lewis and Clark College in Portland, Oregon. We were eager for a road trip–a change of pace and scenery–and the lure of having Maren all to ourselves between Portland and St Paul was just the incentive we needed.

What a treat to see her in her new habitat, meet some of her friends, and hear about her classes and activities, as well as plans for the next school year. Plus, we thrilled with the diversity of landscape between Minnesota and Oregon, and how fun to see bison and antelope and prairie dogs and Bighorn sheep in their natural settings. Oh, and the coyote that dashed across the road right in front of us!

Each of our families made the trek through the Badlands and to Mt Rushmore when we were in sixth grade, but this was the first time we had been to the Crazy Horse Monument with its amazing museum of Native American art. The creation of the monument, whose origin is a fascinating tale, will continue for decades to come. Put this on your “must visit” list.

We oohed and aahed our way through Portland neighborhoods, including the Japanese Garden, realizing how color starved we were, thanks to our reluctant spring in Minnesota.

A great trip, but oh how good it is to be home.

Travel As I Age

  • I enjoy traveling, but I admit I am not passionate about traveling. I loved the big trips we had in the past–Paris, London, Rome and Florence, Tanzania, along with the semester I spent in Thailand when I was a junior in college. How amazing it was to experience other cultures and to see so much of what I had read about –or knew nothing about, but I don’t yearn for big trips. I view those trips as a kind of bonus in my life.
  • I don’t like to pack, but I enjoy unpacking. Deciding what to take –how much, for what kind of occasions and weather and possibilities–flusters me. But emptying the suitcases, doing the laundry, finding places for any new treasures does not feel like a chore to me. I love the feeling of settling back in and becoming reacquainted with the routines of my everyday life.
  • I am just as content and interested in the close by, as the far away. And then after roaming for only a day, I can sleep in my own bed. (Would someone explain to me why hotel beds seem to be so high–I need a running jump or a stool to get myself up into bed and when I do the bedding is so heavy I can hardly move. And what about the lack of good lighting? Don’t other people read before they go to sleep? I’ll stop whining now!)
  • I repeat: I am just as content with the close by as the far away. I like being a tourist in my own town, my own state, and I’ve started making this summer’s list of places we can visit in a day or maybe two.
  • I prefer immersing myself in a place. When we went to France several years ago, we stayed in Paris for the whole two weeks and took day trips, returning to our apartment each evening. We wandered neighborhoods, as well as seeing the most important sights. I like getting a taste of what it might be like to live in that location. That can also mean returning to a location over and over again. For example, we never tire of returning to Door County, WI. We relish the familiar, as well as the new discoveries.
  • I appreciate the spaciousness of travel. How good it is to learn and experience new things, but travel also opens my eyes and my heart to myself. I return home with new insights, new ideas for teaching or writing or even how to rearrange the furniture. Travel is a not only a time to wander physically, but it is also a time that encourages day dreaming and imagining what it would be like to live someplace else. Travel is a time to visit the “what ifs” of the mind.

Let me be clear: We had a great trip, especially the time we had to be with Maren. No regrets, but I am just as happy to once again be home.

Travel as Pilgrimage

As I prepare for or begin a trip, I consider my intention. In this case, it was obvious; spend time with Maren and gain a clearer vision of her college life. The agenda was simple and loose, leaving room for flexibility and possibility.

Just as important, however, at the beginning of a trip is to consider what to leave behind, in order to open myself to something new or unknown. For me that meant taking a time out from writing posts for this blog and spending a minimum of time emailing or doing other online tasks. I left behind my “to do” lists, and that, dear friends, is not easy for me.

As I travel, I ask myself how can I be receptive to what is in front of me and offered to me? What do I give of myself? Are my eyes open? My heart? On this trip we saw so much poverty and homelessness, for example. At the same time we saw so much beauty.

Now that I have returned, I need time to integrate what I’ve learned and experienced. What questions do I have about what I have seen? What else do I want to learn? How will this trip enhance my life and the way I live? I am in that stage now.

Note:

My next post, Thursday, May 12, I will share the list of books I bought at the bookstore mecca, Powells.

An Invitation

What kind of a traveler are you? What makes travel pleasurable for you? What role does travel play in who you are? I would love to know.

Re-Entry Blues

/ nagneberg48 / 4 Comments

We have returned from a brief time in our beloved Door County. Too brief a time. Usually after being away, I am eager, ready to return to home base. Not this time. Perhaps the reason is that Door County is a place where I always feel at home. Or perhaps we weren’t away long enough to feel the tug of home.

Whatever the reason, I am in the midst of re-entry blues.

In the past when I have led retreats of more than a day’s duration, I have offered suggestions to participants about how to prepare for re-entry–even before arriving at the retreat. I ask them to think about what will be helpful when they return home. For me that includes leaving the house clean, for who wants your first home view to be a dirty bathroom or kitchen? I think ahead to what our first meal will be once home–something simple; something that doesn’t require a quick dash to the grocery store. I pay upcoming bills and handle other correspondence and in general, try not to leave a long To Do list that flashes on top of my desk. After all, enough will accumulate while we are gone, and there will be more than one load of laundry to do. The stuff of daily life.

Not only did I do all those tasks, but I also prepared material for my personal writing group and the weekly writing group I lead at church. Both were scheduled to meet the first days after our return, and it eased my mind to know I was ready.

All that was helpful, but I still feel like I am not quite home. My body may be here, but my mind, my heart have been left behind. I can’t quite push myself to move forward beyond the mundane tasks of being home. I thought I would be ready and even eager to begin working on a book proposal, as well as an upcoming adult forum at church, but I don’t feel motivated to take any of those steps. Instead I want to stay in Door County mode–take another long walk schussing leaves, read chapter after chapter in another good book, and enjoy deep conversation over a delicious meal fixed by someone else. I want to drive yet another back road stunned by beauty at every turn.

Ok, I’ve acknowledged to my self–and to you–that I would rather be there than here, but I am here and as my father often said, “That’s the way it is.” So what to do?

First of all, it isn’t as if we have been home for several weeks and I still haven’t done what I say I need to do. No, it has just been a few days. Second, it isn’t as if I have been idle since returning home. I have handled all the basics of life here at home. I fully engaged with the two writing groups, met with clients, communicated with family and friends, went on daily walks, fixed good meals, slept well, and enjoyed reading time in the snug. My husband and I even gave ourselves an extra vacation day and went to a monthly antique sale in a town about 90 miles away.

Maybe I am just being hard on myself. That would not be unusual.

Here’s what I suspect: I needed the time away. More time than what was allotted, so I have unconsciously built more downtime into these first days at home. I know myself well enough that sooner, more probably than later, I will get bored with not doing much of anything and I will be drawn to the next steps waiting for me.

How often have I advised others, “Be gentle with yourself.” I guess that is what I am doing now.

An Invitation: What does being gentle with yourself look like for you? I would love to know.