Madrid to Sevilla

I arrived in Madrid last night. My body was tired but my mind was restlessly reviewing the vast experiences of the day and the limitless unknowns that lie ahead. When traveling abroad, everything takes effort and focus, almost every movement is a mind puzzle - from my clumsy fumbling over a return to Spanish, to finding gates, streets, or the right train, and figuring out where to pick up the Turkish coffe I ordered during my layover in Istanbul.

I met fellow travelers - a research professor who speaks at least 4 languages ( so seemingly common in my experiences abroad), who was in his way to a festival in Nigeria. I met a woman about my age, Stephanie, also from Texas and about to begin her second year of teaching in Madrid. As my head hit the pillow, I was already translating phrases if need the next day.

I am struck by my overwhelming awareness and the incessant need to communicate/capture/commodify the experience. Like many people, I am addicted to social media and so my brain has become trapped into thinking in "status updates," captions, and hashtags. I appreciate and value the work of reflection and articulation as they reveal tremendous meaning in the menial, but most often my intentions are misplaced. Such vanity is one of the shackles I pray to be freed from in this journey. 

So far humility has been easy to come by as I depend on the help and patience of others, and as I caught a whiff of myself after almost 24 hours of travel. And so, as I tossed and turned with my roaming mind, I sought the peace of prayer. I prayed that this journey be a journey toward God. The Holy Spirit completed my petition, "and thus toward others." To journey with God is to journey with others - with strangers, in all our human fragility and sacred simplicity.

As I awoke this morning, I reminded myself of this call to intention. In the rush of re-packing and in my concern for catching trains, I paused. Felt my nostrils flare. My rib age expand with the cool Spanish  air. As I have done at thresholds past, I once again opened my bible to the prayerful pages of Psalms. It's my go-to when I don't know where to start. (Which is pretty much always).

It's been 9 years since I was last in Spain for my Study Abroad. Today I am aware of how foreign and familiar it feels - as I walk in the shadow of the Reina Sofie museum and in the shade of the Parque del Retiro, as I munch my favorite manchego cheese and glance at the rows of silvery olive trees outside this train window. Distance demands I take notice.

Just before I got on my plane in Houston, a friend handed me a small envelope with a word of blessing from John O'Donahue:

"...when you travel, you find yourself

Alone in a different way.

More attentive now

To the self you bring along,

Your more subtle eye watching you abroad;

And how what meets you touches 

that part of the heart

That lies low at home..."

Selah.