The healing power of travel

Klara at The Next 1500 Days has written a most beautiful post about visiting a glacier and how it helped her and her husband heal after their first IVF, and gave them strength for the future. Go read it here, if only to see the fabulous photo, but also to read her wise words. Klara and I both love travel. So of course, she got me thinking. 

Before we started IVF, after our first ectopic pregnancy, we took a trip to France.  I have written before about it here, about how it taught me to hold joy at great beauty, and sadness for a loss at the same time. Later, between our first and what would be our last IVF attempts, we had six weeks between cycles, and we took off to nearby Vanuatu for a short beach holiday. More recently, after a difficult diagnosis and treatment, we have been on a bucket list trip to Egypt and a cruise. It took us away from the reality of diagnoses and treatments and necessary home maintenance that were threatening to overwhelm us. 

Travel brings me great joy, whether it is through extraordinary landscapes, or famous sites, or food, or learning new things. That joy, for a short time, helps me forget sadness, or at least, it helps remind me that I can hold both at the same time. In fact, travel almost requires me to do that. Because at home it can be easy to push away any pleasure because I might feel guilty for feeling joy in awful circumstances. I felt that with the loss of pregnancies, until I allowed myself to let go of the guilt. Travel almost demands we do that. After all, we owe it to ourselves to enjoy something that is out of the ordinary, something we paid for, something that has taken a great effort to experience. 

It can even allow me to forget those stresses and realities of life. Because there is only so much we can hold at once. Travel insists that I concentrate on a new environment, maybe different languages and almost always cultures. That brings a real focus on where I am and what I am doing, on experiencing the immediate, the now, and of being aware and appreciative. And in opening my heart to wonder and joy, to experience that, makes it is easier to shut out some of the troubles we are facing. It allows me space to breathe. My posture improves, my shoulders relax, and the biggest stress is (usually) where to eat dinner each night. It makes it easier to forget sadness. And therefore easier to relax. When we are mindful, and focused on that, it gives our brains and our hearts a welcome and much-needed rest. It allows us to stop thinking about the "what-ifs" and what is going to happen in the future. Our brains and our bodies can relax. Our souls can heal, just a little. It allows me some rejuvenation of body, if possible, and almost definitely of spirit.  

By opening our hearts to experience the now, to be mindful, I feel relief. I noticed this first when I just needed to be away from a stressful job. Then after some more serious life events, including pregnancy loss. Travel, for me, provides some healing, and reminds me that there is much happiness to be found in this world, if we stay open to it. I am especially aware of that if I am relaxing in a gentle breeze in Asia, or absorbed in an animal sighting in Africa, or appreciating a beautiful village square in France, or most recently watching a lovely sunset over the Nile. But there is joy in a sunset at home too, or in a funny encounter, or seeing a beautiful flower. Travel has helped teach me that, too. Even if or when we know that there is worse to come, a brief respite of mindfulness can be welcome relief.

The stress of being in new places might be too much for some people. Certainly, travel is not completely stress-free, even when we love it. I'm not a brave intrepid traveller, oblivious or blase about risks in different environments. But for me the benefits outweigh the risks.  That is not the case for everyone. I know too it is a luxury to be able to travel. I hope I will be able to continue to travel, but nothing is certain. So if travel is not for you, I am sure there are other things that can deliver the same awareness and relief for you. When I think about it, a hobby, a good book, a walk or run, a film or play or gig, a day out, or even cooking and eating a delicious meal can be healing, if we let it, if we are mindful, if we are open to letting small moments of joy and peace into our hearts when all else feels gloomy.

 

 

 

 

 

Happy No Kidding New Year!

Hi everyone! I'm sorry I have been away for so long. But I want to say Happy New Year, and send very my best wishes for 2026, whatever it may bring.

My silence has had two reasons. The first was the continuing saga of a health situation, that really took my attention from almost everything - reading/audiobooks/podcasts/radio listening, interesting TV watching  (other than comfort binges), writing (here and on A Separate Life), etc. Suddenly last year, my No Kidding status was secondary to a grim health prognosis, and a different future than I had imagined. That idea at least was familiar.

But the second reason for my silence has been our decision to live life while we can, and to take a bucket list trip. We hope there will be more. We are by no means confident that there will be. So we took the opportunity, and took off. I'm going to blog about it on A Separate Life. But here are some of the No Kidding thoughts I have about it now that we have returned.

We chose a trip that had two possible timings - December/January, or April/May. Our doctor advised that the first was the wisest choice. It did not bother us at all that it was going to occur over Christmas and New Year. A couple of relatives had been seriously thinking about joining us. Until they knew it would be over Christmas. They couldn't possibly be away from their (adult) kids at the time. We shrugged. This was not a problem or obligation or desire that we had to contend with.

Second, the trip included a cruise. It was on a line we wouldn't normally choose, and in general, the passengers made us feel quite young! Whilst kids were allowed (another cruise line advertises itself in NZ as "No kids, no casinos!" lol), there were only about four or five children under ten, and a bored looking teenager. I'm not sure what their parents were thinking. So all the activities were adult-focused.

Thirdly, as we queued for entry to the ship, we got chatting to an Australian couple. Almost instantly, the woman made us aware of how many kids she had, and where they lived. It was as if she was justifying relocating for her retirement. I was amused and a little sad for her that she felt she had to mention this. It seemed as if she had either faced criticism over the move, or wasn't happy with it herself. And I hoped that they were on the cruise out of sheer excitement for the opportunity and itinerary, rather than as a way to fill the holiday period with activity. (Yes, I can overthink things!)

Finally, and most importantly, we met a lot of people on the cruise. Yet, aside from a younger woman mentioning how much better constructed/lighter/easier modern day prams/pushchairs/strollers are these days compared to 15 years ago (and it was in an appropriate context, though that completely eludes me now, so I just nodded), not a single other person mentioned children or grandchildren. Well, apart from the aforementioned Australian woman. (I'm sure the two or three parents who had children with them would have, but we never interacted.) No-one talked about work either. We talked about cruise lines, and food, and destinations, and where we lived. A few people tried politics, but when they didn't get the reactions they wanted, it was easily dropped. It was gloriously without posturing or judgement. (And considering the obvious wealth of some of the people on the cruise, there was plenty of opportunity for that.)

Actually, now I think about it, one other couple mentioned children. They said, quite simply, in a cautious way that I recognised, that they didn't have children so could retire anywhere they chose. "We're in the same position," I said. We then had an interesting conversation about great places to retire, whether to move away from friends, different considerations, etc. Our lack of children, or how that came about, just was not important. But it meant we had things in common.

I compared that with poor Infertile Phoenix's experience on her trip. I don't know if it is our age (though grandchildren discussions could easily dominate), the fact we didn't provide any openings for children/grandchildren discussions (whereas her travelling companions might have), the nature of the cruise line, the nationalities on the cruise (dominated by Australians and Brits), or the itinerary (very much a destination-based cruise rather than swimming and sun and fun), but it was gloriously child free.