A book and a bouquet

While we travel to arrive at a destination, it has always been the journey which spoke to my heart. A long car drive home at night, quiet and uninterrupted, or the excitement that comes with lift-off. There is the ambiance that accompanies the sound of a train along the tracks, and the companionship of a book and a bouquet illuminated by the compartment overhead light. These comings and goings are the expectant beginnings and reflective ends of an adventure. The act of travel.

Years ago, I took the train to New York City quite frequently. During one such trip I decided to indulge myself for the ride home and purchased something noteworthy and something beautiful. A treasured book and a bouquet. When I arrived home, they sat together on my desk as a reminder of that most recent trip. Later the book took up residence on a shelf, its pages stuffed with ticket stubs, receipts, and postcards. I loved this whole idea of a book and a bouquet so much that they became my ongoing companions on Amtrak.

I think the reason why this little ritual became important to me was because it symbolized a personal independence and always a trip that included much fun, events that were important to me, and the celebration of an adventure worth taking. As a friend recently pointed out to me when I was describing this whole notion of a book and a bouquet, the act of traveling home with these objects was like providing myself with a hug.

I recently discovered a number of Eyewitness Travel books in a box which had been kept in my storage unit. Unlike the fiction I bought on my way home from New York, these books were about the places I wanted to travel to – Rome, Iceland, Warsaw, and Prague. Seattle and Santa Fe. I put the entire box out on the porch destined for the dump because I learned over the last few years that not all journeys are fun. I had done quite enough traveling, thank you very much, not only from geographic location to geographic location, but also in my own mind as I attempted to piece together my recovery from trauma.

Joseph Campbell wrote of the hero’s journey. In what has now become a template for character development and narrative for great storytelling, the hero is presented with an adventure – it is always apparent that this adventure is a difficult one, one that our hero is reluctant to pursue. However, through a series of events (usually none of which are good), the hero finds herself on a path that rips away all her prior beliefs, followed by an existential crisis, then self awareness and improvement. We like reading about the hero because just like the rest of us, she makes mistakes, learns difficult lessons, and returns home all the better and wiser. We can relate and there is always hope.

It occurs to me that the paperbacks I purchased in Grand Central were stories of journeys that I embarked on while actually journeying home. Each experience into the city changing who I was, each paperback adding to the fabric of my life, building the tapestry that makes me me. Those trips were sweet and brief.

There are other journeys, like those of Campbell’s protagonist, which are arduous and heartbreaking. They can go on for months or years. What do we learn from such experiences and how do we cull those important lessons?

In August 2017, we went to Tennessee to see the total eclipse of the sun. And when I got back home, I remembered that box of books on my porch. As I consider my future, I want to continue to embrace the journey. I retrieved the box of Eyewitness Travel guides and decided there will be more books and bouquets in my life.

Lisa Mikulski is an international writer/photographer based in Boston, MA with a focus on art, culture and lifestyle. Available for print or online publications. Editorial, features, content development, and creative. Contact me to discuss your story.