In the moment

I love to travel. I get that this is not breaking news to any of you who have followed my blog from day one. You’ve probably even clued into this passion of mine if you’re a more recent convert. It’s not a secret. From the beginning of time as I know it, I have yearned to see the world, visiting new places or revisiting my old haunts with every possible opportunity. Over the end-of-year holidays, I spent a night in London, one of my old favorites, and added some new places in Italy – *long, wistful sigh* – to my ever-expanding list of places to see and eat my way through again before I die.

In today’s post, I want to look at how travel and PTSD recovery are related. I know, I know, they may not sound like fast friends, but for those of you who like to travel they can actually be two links in the same chain. What’s super cool about this relationship is that even if you aren’t a PTSD survivor or dealing with some other mental health issue, the potential benefits of travel also apply to you. I’m going to show you how travel can help you live your best life and rediscover the joys of living in the moment for days – or even weeks – at a stretch.

Taking a trip is the best way for me to step away from normal life. When I travel, I get to focus exclusively on what I need from one moment to the next, maybe only looking as far as a few hours ahead if I’ve booked a specific activity for later in the day. I don’t have to worry about plowing through an ever-expanding to-do list at work, what to do about a dripping shower faucet, or reviewing my notes for a debate with my teen about whose turn it is to clean the kitchen. Instead, I get to think about where I am and what I need in any given moment of the day. If I’m hungry, I eat. If I’m thirsty, I drink. If I see something interesting as I cross the street, I change course and go investigate. My job when I travel is to open myself up to what is happening and appreciate what I discover.

This practice of focusing on your body, senses, feelings, and experiences as they unfold in real time is called mindfulness. It’s one of the most effective tools you can use to combat stress, but it takes effort to master. It’s not a no-brainer. Through trial and error you must determine which mindfulness exercises make sense for you and meet your personal needs. While I do work on this skill in my normal life, it can be a struggle to keep my mind from wandering. But when I travel, the rest of the world fades to the background and I am just In-the-Moment Karie.

I love this version of me.

When I am navigating a new town, I can’t help but pour all of my attention into what is happening around me. I’m engrossed in unfamiliar streets with beautiful and surprising things around every corner. I’m intent on finding the next subject for the satisfying click of my camera’s shutter. I’m tuned into elusive sounds and scents and the enormity of an place I don’t know. Just getting off at the correct stop on the metro or figuring out where to turn involves considerable concentration and focus. Throw in signs that make no sense to my brain, people speaking in a different language, food I don’t recognize, and drivers following rules I can’t begin to fathom – no matter how hard I try – and I can’t help but be consumed by that one particular moment in time.

Mindfulness. It’s a beautiful thing.

Ok, so by now you probably get that it’s cool to live in the moment. No worries, right? But you might still be fuzzy on why a PTSD survivor benefits from practicing effective mindfulness. Here’s the deal, when I am hell-bent on finding the next amazing thing from one moment to the next, then it is impossible – IMPOSSIBLE – for me to focus on the horrors of my past. The travel isn’t the part that matters. Instead, it’s that single-minded focus that doesn’t allow anything shady to slip past my trauma guard. Now, that’s not to say you can’t trigger while on vacation because you most certainly can – and I did in Italy – but that’s a post for another day.

For me, that level of intense concentration and laser-pointer focus becomes a strong, stable barrier against my demons when I travel. A natural curiosity and love for all things of beauty that my fellow humans can create – architecture, art, food, music, language, and a distinct way of thinking and living – so absorbs me that I allow myself to simmer in my surroundings to the exclusion of everything else.

For the days or weeks when I’m on the road, I don’t have to worry about whether the dog threw up on the carpet or the trash needs to go out to the street or the lawn needs watering. It’s practically impossible to even remember that those are my normal everyday worries. When I travel, I’m so focused on where I’m going and what I’m doing while sidestepping pickpockets or dodging a taxi driving like a bat out of hell or savoring the most perfect scoop of gelato ever – mandarin in case you’re wondering – that even my past trauma experiences fade to black.

Since my life unraveled, travel has been the one thing that has been powerful enough to drag my attention away from the terrible memories seared into my soul. In the earliest months following the crime and trial, the relief I experienced when traveling was short-lived, sometimes just a few minutes at a time. But even that was enough to remind me that the storm would eventually pass. And that someday I would make it through if I just kept moving and breathing and holding onto any small thing that could garner my attention.

Someday has arrived, folks!

Grazie, Italia. Arrivederci!

Italy was extraordinary. It didn’t just hold my attention, it captured it and my photos from today are all examples of things that intrigued me. I have a lot more to show and tell about my trip, so stand by for another update soon. Until then, ciao!