Ever since I read The Dharma Bums and On The Road in high school, I’ve wanted to travel, “get kicks” as the Beats called it. Over the years I’ve hitchhiked throughout the U.S., traveled abroad, and explored off-the-beaten-path places on foot. I’ve slept in public bathrooms on the beach in New Zealand, rented rooms in forlorn towns in Maine in the middle of winter, and spent nights in lonely trail side shelters on the AT, deportation shelters in Mexico, and $12 motels in Southeast Asia.
But the thing about being a “vagrant traveler” in this way is there is an air of loneliness that tinges all the adventure and breathtaking scenery. Though it is a generalization, most people “on the road” are running from something—either in their personal lives or in themselves. They may not have a home to go home to. Or if they do, there is abuse and neglect. Some are homeless by choice, others by circumstance. But typically, most are running from something that haunts them.
The retreat has been restful and peaceful so far, and the warm Autumn weather a blessing. I leave tomorrow at sunrise, and two days was just the right amount of time.
As I took a walk this morning and sat down to pray my rosary in an Adirondack chair by a pond on the property overlooking the valley, I thought how blessed I am to have a home to go home to. When I’m on the road, I’m no better than a vagrant on two wheels with a credit card. But back home, I am a King. I have a devoted wife and great kids. As I sat down with an empty chair next to me, it made me miss my wife, but also made me grateful that I hope to grow old with her sitting and looking out over the same valley one day.
Our Lord, as it says in scripture, had no where to lay his head. He also went up to lonely places to get away and pray, and I think that is why I do these things to try to imitate him more fully. So hermits like Saint Simeon of the Stylites left alone removed from society that is not my calling. But these periods of removing oneself from what is comfortable is not a bad thing to do periodically as well. It reminds us of what we have and what awaits us back home.
Please pray for me tomorrow on my 3 day ride back home as the mornings are quite foggy and the descents steep. I have a lot of miles to log. As Jack Kerouac once famously wrote, “the bus roared on. I was going home in October. Everyone goes home in October.
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