The Stay-cation
by Josephine Laing
One of my dear friends traveled the world as part of her job for over fifteen years. She went to China and did Tai Chi at dawn in the eighties before the west really knew what Tai Chi was. She watched as Chinese women delicately held little nuggets of Lapis Lazuli in their finger tips, sitting at a large kick wheel, spinning and grinding stones, making tiny equally-sized, perfectly-round beads out of the small gems without nicking their fingers. She went to Australia and Europe, France and Spain. She saw whaling ships in Norway and fields of tulips in Denmark. I think she even went to Timbuktu. And do you know what she told me? She said, "Josephine, there is no place as sweet as home!" And of course that is especially true right here in beautiful San Luis Obispo. We have our incredible Morros, "the Seven Sisters," the Pacific Ocean and her beautiful beaches and rocky shores, we have lakes and streams and those rolling golden hills of California. And what about this weather?! Could it possibly be any more perfect? I don't think so. But I'm sure that some of this is true for everyone's home, no matter where it may be. We do love what is familiar. And the places of our youth are often held particularly fondly in our hearts. And yes it's exciting to venture afield now and then, but in my life, I've found that it doesn't have to be very far.
Another friend of ours has devoted a great deal of his energies to reducing his carbon footprint. He rides his bike to work. He recycles all of the grey water from his home. The used water from his sinks, tubs and washing machine flow into a series of visqueen lined settling ponds which progress down the slope of their yard. Each pond has a few more and greater variety of water plants, and every-time water goes down the drains, instead of going into the sewer, it flows from pool to pool reaching it's final destination via a short little creek into a large coy pond down in their lower backyard. The pond has a nice deck at one end and tables and chairs shaded by a young very fruitful peach tree. It's pretty incredible really. And it works like a charm. By the time the water has settled and the plants have freshened it, and the small sunlit creek has tumbled it, the fish can thrive in it and any spill over from the pond irrigates the deep roots of the trees and brings a bounty of peaches to the table.
And that's not all he does. He and his wife own and drive a hybrid car. Their mom and pop local business is fair trade and organic. It provides employment for local folk. They shop at the Co-Op and farmer's markets and hang their laundry on the line.
So, one day he told me that he sat down at his computer, knowing all of these good efforts that he and his wife do, to take an on-line quiz to see how his carbon footprint was. And it was great, question after question his score was among the lowest for an American. Until, that is, he got to the end, the travel section. And he does travel. He travels for work and he travels to help improve conditions for people in other parts of the world. He travels to see family and he travels for pleasure. And that shot his carbon footprint right out of the ball park. All of those other good efforts went to naught.
Now, I know that this may sound overly simplified, but public television has wonderful travel logs on places far away. And I truly enjoy watching them from the comfort of my living room. These professional film makers can really encapsulate the tone and quality of a place in a short but potent period of time. I know, I can hear you now, "But Josephine, seeing it on T.V. is nothing like being in a place like the Middle East." I know, I get it. But do we all have to go? Is it wise? Could picking one really intriguing, captivating place to go in the world do?
Back in my college days, when I did my internship at the Pacific Tropical Botanical Garden on the island of Kauai in the state of Hawaii, I met a man named Imone. He was a rock wall builder and could take a giant pile of rocks and transform it into an eighty foot long six foot tall retaining wall, just as flat and tight as if it had never been a pile of rubble on the ground. He was truly a master in his craft. And his long life's work of walls adorned the gardens and beaches and beautiful parks all around a ten mile radius of his home. He told me which walls he had built and were they were and I went and visited a number of them. When I asked if he had built any walls up in a neighboring city he said, "No, Josephine, I've never been up there." This was only a twenty minute drive away. I couldn't believe it. But no, he had never been out of his little community in the southern most area of his island. I was flabbergasted. I'd only been there two weeks and I'd been around the whole island. He'd been there sixty years and hadn't ventured twenty miles. A very different choice, and a nice one too, slower, more relaxed. Much less hectic then being than being a globe trotter.
Years ago, in England, my father's home country, when people needed a break and just had to get away for a little bit, they walked down to the local pub. It was a near daily occurrence and eased the pressure of the doldrums in small measured doses. One hundred years before that, when people left there home country for a distant land, like Australia, that was it, they were gone for life. Their families knew that most likely they would never see them again. Travelers in that era cast their fortunes and their lives to chance. Maybe their families would receive a single letter years later. What a difference from now.
But truly, I do feel that it is our essential duty to the world to respond to our deep yearnings. I call it, "Staying In Our Joy." To me, this is the key to bringing forth our own personal unique gift, the one that we alone can give. So, if travel is your utmost delight and calling, then, by all means, set your sails and go. Many of my friends are summoned to places far away by the light of their own inspirations. The joy they experience at the thought of these travels sparkles brightly in their eyes. And not only do they bring back wonderful teachings and tales from these distant lands, but they also act as emissaries of a broader vision of the possible role of women as independent and intelligent guiding forces in society. This representation of how women can be can quench a very parched thirst in cultures wherein women's ideas, status and abilities are largely suppressed. So, if you are called, truly called, I say, by all means, pack up and go. Go and enjoy and fulfill your destiny. But, if your just looking for a break from the nine to five there's no need to look very far. We've got so much right here.
When my mom died, our father took my brothers and I with his mother, our grandmother, to see his native home. And while I was a kid, I went with my mom, by train, half a dozen times to visit her folks, in Nebraska. I did my internship in Hawaii and Frank and I enjoyed our honey moon there. And then when my dad died, Frank and I went to the one place we truly wanted to see, New Zealand, and we had a wonderful time.
But, you know what?, I found out that wherever you go, you take yourself. So even though it was a new environment with spectacular scenery (almost as nice as Home Sweet Home San Luis Obispo,) I still had all of my niggling little problems, fussy food preferences, trying to get the bed just right, stinging biting bugs, whatever. There is no getting away from my own little peculiarities no matter where I am. What a surprise to find out that I take myself with me on vacation. And generally, it's a bit easier to deal with all that fussy stuff at home.
So, though we still travel a little ways inland, to the splendor of Yosemite or the Sierras every other year or so, and do get cajoled into visiting family on occasion, mostly, we've embraced the "Stay-cation." We'll camp in Montana de Oro or get a hotel on the beach in San Simeon and see the zebras and feed tidbits to flying seagulls overhead or take a wander in the Emerald Forest all right here at home. Not as close to our actual home as my friend Imone managed, but certainly not Timbuktu either. And this week it's Chinese night with the neighbor boys. Next week, it'll be a potluck party till sunset on the beach at Spooner's Cove. Not bad at all, fun really and quite close to home. Sometimes we even pitch the tent right out in the backyard. No joke. It's fun fending off the kitties and watching out for possums and raccoons. We set up the hammock and have a travel free holiday right outside our own back door.
© 2012 Josephine Laing
One of my dear friends traveled the world as part of her job for over fifteen years. She went to China and did Tai Chi at dawn in the eighties before the west really knew what Tai Chi was. She watched as Chinese women delicately held little nuggets of Lapis Lazuli in their finger tips, sitting at a large kick wheel, spinning and grinding stones, making tiny equally-sized, perfectly-round beads out of the small gems without nicking their fingers. She went to Australia and Europe, France and Spain. She saw whaling ships in Norway and fields of tulips in Denmark. I think she even went to Timbuktu. And do you know what she told me? She said, "Josephine, there is no place as sweet as home!" And of course that is especially true right here in beautiful San Luis Obispo. We have our incredible Morros, "the Seven Sisters," the Pacific Ocean and her beautiful beaches and rocky shores, we have lakes and streams and those rolling golden hills of California. And what about this weather?! Could it possibly be any more perfect? I don't think so. But I'm sure that some of this is true for everyone's home, no matter where it may be. We do love what is familiar. And the places of our youth are often held particularly fondly in our hearts. And yes it's exciting to venture afield now and then, but in my life, I've found that it doesn't have to be very far.
Another friend of ours has devoted a great deal of his energies to reducing his carbon footprint. He rides his bike to work. He recycles all of the grey water from his home. The used water from his sinks, tubs and washing machine flow into a series of visqueen lined settling ponds which progress down the slope of their yard. Each pond has a few more and greater variety of water plants, and every-time water goes down the drains, instead of going into the sewer, it flows from pool to pool reaching it's final destination via a short little creek into a large coy pond down in their lower backyard. The pond has a nice deck at one end and tables and chairs shaded by a young very fruitful peach tree. It's pretty incredible really. And it works like a charm. By the time the water has settled and the plants have freshened it, and the small sunlit creek has tumbled it, the fish can thrive in it and any spill over from the pond irrigates the deep roots of the trees and brings a bounty of peaches to the table.
And that's not all he does. He and his wife own and drive a hybrid car. Their mom and pop local business is fair trade and organic. It provides employment for local folk. They shop at the Co-Op and farmer's markets and hang their laundry on the line.
So, one day he told me that he sat down at his computer, knowing all of these good efforts that he and his wife do, to take an on-line quiz to see how his carbon footprint was. And it was great, question after question his score was among the lowest for an American. Until, that is, he got to the end, the travel section. And he does travel. He travels for work and he travels to help improve conditions for people in other parts of the world. He travels to see family and he travels for pleasure. And that shot his carbon footprint right out of the ball park. All of those other good efforts went to naught.
Now, I know that this may sound overly simplified, but public television has wonderful travel logs on places far away. And I truly enjoy watching them from the comfort of my living room. These professional film makers can really encapsulate the tone and quality of a place in a short but potent period of time. I know, I can hear you now, "But Josephine, seeing it on T.V. is nothing like being in a place like the Middle East." I know, I get it. But do we all have to go? Is it wise? Could picking one really intriguing, captivating place to go in the world do?
Back in my college days, when I did my internship at the Pacific Tropical Botanical Garden on the island of Kauai in the state of Hawaii, I met a man named Imone. He was a rock wall builder and could take a giant pile of rocks and transform it into an eighty foot long six foot tall retaining wall, just as flat and tight as if it had never been a pile of rubble on the ground. He was truly a master in his craft. And his long life's work of walls adorned the gardens and beaches and beautiful parks all around a ten mile radius of his home. He told me which walls he had built and were they were and I went and visited a number of them. When I asked if he had built any walls up in a neighboring city he said, "No, Josephine, I've never been up there." This was only a twenty minute drive away. I couldn't believe it. But no, he had never been out of his little community in the southern most area of his island. I was flabbergasted. I'd only been there two weeks and I'd been around the whole island. He'd been there sixty years and hadn't ventured twenty miles. A very different choice, and a nice one too, slower, more relaxed. Much less hectic then being than being a globe trotter.
Years ago, in England, my father's home country, when people needed a break and just had to get away for a little bit, they walked down to the local pub. It was a near daily occurrence and eased the pressure of the doldrums in small measured doses. One hundred years before that, when people left there home country for a distant land, like Australia, that was it, they were gone for life. Their families knew that most likely they would never see them again. Travelers in that era cast their fortunes and their lives to chance. Maybe their families would receive a single letter years later. What a difference from now.
But truly, I do feel that it is our essential duty to the world to respond to our deep yearnings. I call it, "Staying In Our Joy." To me, this is the key to bringing forth our own personal unique gift, the one that we alone can give. So, if travel is your utmost delight and calling, then, by all means, set your sails and go. Many of my friends are summoned to places far away by the light of their own inspirations. The joy they experience at the thought of these travels sparkles brightly in their eyes. And not only do they bring back wonderful teachings and tales from these distant lands, but they also act as emissaries of a broader vision of the possible role of women as independent and intelligent guiding forces in society. This representation of how women can be can quench a very parched thirst in cultures wherein women's ideas, status and abilities are largely suppressed. So, if you are called, truly called, I say, by all means, pack up and go. Go and enjoy and fulfill your destiny. But, if your just looking for a break from the nine to five there's no need to look very far. We've got so much right here.
When my mom died, our father took my brothers and I with his mother, our grandmother, to see his native home. And while I was a kid, I went with my mom, by train, half a dozen times to visit her folks, in Nebraska. I did my internship in Hawaii and Frank and I enjoyed our honey moon there. And then when my dad died, Frank and I went to the one place we truly wanted to see, New Zealand, and we had a wonderful time.
But, you know what?, I found out that wherever you go, you take yourself. So even though it was a new environment with spectacular scenery (almost as nice as Home Sweet Home San Luis Obispo,) I still had all of my niggling little problems, fussy food preferences, trying to get the bed just right, stinging biting bugs, whatever. There is no getting away from my own little peculiarities no matter where I am. What a surprise to find out that I take myself with me on vacation. And generally, it's a bit easier to deal with all that fussy stuff at home.
So, though we still travel a little ways inland, to the splendor of Yosemite or the Sierras every other year or so, and do get cajoled into visiting family on occasion, mostly, we've embraced the "Stay-cation." We'll camp in Montana de Oro or get a hotel on the beach in San Simeon and see the zebras and feed tidbits to flying seagulls overhead or take a wander in the Emerald Forest all right here at home. Not as close to our actual home as my friend Imone managed, but certainly not Timbuktu either. And this week it's Chinese night with the neighbor boys. Next week, it'll be a potluck party till sunset on the beach at Spooner's Cove. Not bad at all, fun really and quite close to home. Sometimes we even pitch the tent right out in the backyard. No joke. It's fun fending off the kitties and watching out for possums and raccoons. We set up the hammock and have a travel free holiday right outside our own back door.
© 2012 Josephine Laing