My Two Most Memorable Trips (and more)

Eye-Opening Moments are real-life stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives intertwined. In this episode you will hear about My Two Most Memorable Trips & The Beauty of Being Alone.

Website: https://inspiremereads.com
Books: https://amazon.com/author/emily-kay-tan.2021_

Chapters

• 0:21 Introduction
• 1:03 My Two Most Memorable Trips
• 16:44 The Beauty of Being Alone
• 22:34 Key Takeaways

Transcript

Hello and welcome to episode #170 of Eye-Opening Moments where you’ll hear stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives intertwined. They are moments that can lift your spirits, give you some food for thought, or move you. For the introspective mind that likes to reflect, discover, and find solutions or meaning in a complex life, this is for you. I’m your host Emily Kay Tan. In this episode, you will hear about My Two Most Memorable Trips & The Beauty of Being Alone.

My Two Most Memorable Trips
What makes a trip memorable? Is it the uniqueness of the place? Is it the company you have? Is it the activities on the itinerary? I thought it would be, and you could say it is those things or a combination of them all. But I found the two most memorable trips I had both had something in common, and it wasn’t only because of the place, the activities, or the fellow travelers.

The galloping sounds of horses running down from a hill to a watering hole at sunset were a natural and beautiful sight. Since I had never seen it before, I felt honored that I had witnessed it even though my tour guide knew the horses’ behavior patterns and expected it to happen. 

Struggling to climb up on a horse was no fun, but my tour guide was by my side, gently guiding me on how to walk the horse. A caretaker of the horses asked why my tour guide was going with me, and he said he needed to make sure I was safe and okay. Our horses sauntered as I admired the bold blue sky with large cumulus clouds hanging low in the sky. Set against the bright sunny day, the view was breathtaking. The bright green grass swayed, and gray boulders and rocks were before us. I needed to stop and take in the scenery that was surreal to me. My guide patiently waited for me without saying a word.

Stretching my leg to swing across the hump of a camel, I got on it. Once more by my side, my guide slowly rode with me toward the desert. The smooth dunes stretched for miles. We got off the camels and began walking on the sand. Moving up and down on it was like work, and it was no fun. I stopped, took off my windbreaker, put it on a slant in the sand, and lay on it. My guide silently did the same. He didn’t say a word and copied me; I giggled silently. He engaged me in a philosophical conversation about the wishes we want to be granted.

In the dark, we entered a tent with dim lights and a dozen or more chairs. They were cushioned and cloth-covered. Everyone was quiet, and I wondered why. My guide whispered to me that we would witness something that not too many people in the world got to experience. I didn’t know what it was, and I only knew I was to sit down and wait to watch something. Sitting on the soft, cozy chairs in the quiet, dim atmosphere made me feel like a princess of royalty. Soon, several men came out and started grunting strange sounds from their throats. Everyone remained quiet. I thought it sounded weird and terrible, but I also deemed myself privileged to have witnessed something not many in the world got to see. It was my first time to hear the throat singers, something unique to Mongolia.

All the different places, sights, and activities I enjoyed in Mongolia are memorable. But what remains with me are the deep and fun conversations. He inquired why I chose to visit his beloved country of Mongolia. He asked what my greatest wishes were as we lay in the Gobi Desert. He questioned me about what I liked to read and do as we sat on bumpy rides between destinations. He even asked for my saddest story so he might shed tears to get the sand out of his eyes from the wind that blew sand from the Gobi and into his eyes. He asked many questions about me as if he wanted to know Emily Kay Tan instead of making meaningless small talk. This young stranger stole a place in my memory bank.

This twenty-three-year-old shared his dreams and struggles. He asked about mine and volunteered to share his. He revealed that he and his sister stayed in a place with no hot water and heat during the cold winters when he was in college because they wanted to send money home to his parents instead. I didn’t know how he felt, but I felt pain for him. I have been poor a number of times but never that poor. Indeed, someone always has a sadder life story than me. He surprised me with many personal stories and made me feel like I had a friend instead of a tour guide on my Mongolian journey.

I asked many questions about Mongolia, and he had an answer for every question. He was the most knowledgeable tour guide I ever met. Aside from the country’s history, he also had answers for why things were the way they were. I asked one question and thought he might not have an answer, but he did. He explained why the yurts were round and why there was a hole or something like a window at the top. I was a child fascinated with all the stories he told me. The many long and bumpy car rides between destinations did not feel long and uncomfortable because he engaged me in interesting conversations.

Since there were two hours before my flight and nothing to do, he stayed with me, played cards with me, and talked with me some more. I had a young yet exceptionally mature traveling companion who took care of me and treated me like a best friend. He, my tour guide, made Mongolia an unforgettable trip.

Another unforgettable trip was my journey to Bhutan. In search of happiness, I went to the land of happiness, where the government surveyed the happiness of its citizens. The first thing my tour guide asked was what brought me to Bhutan. I was happy that he asked because perhaps he could help me find happiness. Though I had an itinerary, I did not expect that I would be hiking daily for an entire week. Each day, I had to hike for four to eight hours to get somewhere. I was not fit and thought it would be torture, especially at high elevations. I did not think I would have any fun. All was not as expected.

Everywhere I looked, there were mountains in all directions. They were rocky, jagged, and enormous. Narrow roads winded around mountains. There were no street signs; I didn’t know how anybody knew how to get anywhere. How could they distinguish one mountain from another to find their way? I asked, and he only said the driver knew his way.

Hiking up mountains led to temples. Each temple was different, but they were all high up in the mountains. Why were they all so high up? He did not deliver an answer. Every day, my views were of mountains and trees. There were not many stores or abodes around. Nature surrounded me. If you ask what there is to see in Bhutan, the answer is nature or mountains. The answer may not entice you to go to Bhutan, but the hidden gems will make the trip worthwhile.

As we hiked, I found my tour guide to be most peculiar. I walked slowly. He made no demands on me to pick up the pace, nor did he encourage me that I could reach the destination. The long moments of silence between us gave me much peace, and I was unaware that I was learning from him. He was probably unaware that I was learning many things from him. I was learning from his way of being. Because he made no demands on me, I felt at ease with no pressure to move faster when my legs would not cooperate to move faster. He did not make any comments, and I felt unjudged. Unjudged, I was free to be myself and not try to be anybody but myself. Feeling unjudged is to feel accepted, and feeling accepted is to soothe the soul. His way of being allowed me to know what it feels like to feel accepted.

Since he was a tour guide, I thought he would talk more and at least provide information about places or details in the agenda, but no. He was silent for the most part. He only spoke when I asked questions. His answers were short, and he did not elaborate on anything. This strange behavior made me ask more questions. But when I had no more questions, I told myself to go with the flow as talking wasn’t necessary. It made me more present in my surroundings. I observed more of what was before me rather than thinking about other things or what to say. His silence helped me to be in the present. His quiet stance helped me clear my mind and feel peaceful. His silence allowed me to silence the voices in my head and stop thinking about so many things.

After hours of riding in the car, we arrived at a new motel in the mountains to rest. As I looked out from my balcony, I could see a village far below. It seemed as if I was far from civilization, and I was on top of the world looking down where there might be small pockets of people afar. The crispy air was quiet; it was quiet everywhere. I didn’t know how quiet it was or how peaceful I felt until something broke the silence.

Just as I was preparing to lay down for a peaceful sleep at eleven o’clock, I received a phone call from a co-worker about an emergency she needed me to resolve. Her phone call shattered my five days of pure peacefulness. Reality hit me, and the angry voices in me shouted, “I was enjoying the most peaceful time of my life; why did you have to break and ruin it?!” I then realized I had enjoyed five consecutive days of blissful peace where nobody and nothing demanded anything of me. I concluded that it was one aspect of happiness.

With nature all around, it calmed the mind. Silence all around calmed the mind, too. The result is peace. But there are more gems to uncover about this landlocked country. And there is more to learn from my silent tour guide, too. When I asked him why questions, he could not answer them. It reminded me how I have a need to know even when there may not be answers. When he could not answer me, he did not seem frustrated and did not look like he felt bad that he didn’t have the answers. Such a response gave me much food for thought. It lets me know that it is okay when we don’t have answers. I don’t need to get upset; I can simply accept the not knowing. Perhaps that is another aspect of the lesson about acceptance and a gem for me to grasp: accept things as they are.

Though I did not encounter millions of people in Bhutan, as it is not well populated, the people I saw, including my tour guide, had something in common. They emitted a lightness that was the opposite of my heaviness. My worries, concerns, and negativity in my mind made me heavy and burdened. The Bhutanese did not seem concerned about anything and only had smiles to give me. Their smiles were genuine, without any intentions or ulterior motives. Was my life so jaded with evildoers or a society that had people pit against each other to protect or guard themselves? After some days around them, I felt the lightness and emptiness in my head. My mind seemed to take a break from all that thinking, which was usually negative. Greeted by lightness and smiles everywhere was a gem.

After seven days of peace and joy, I returned to reality with some precious gems. I learned that surrounding yourself with nature and time for quiet solitude helps calm and clear the mind. I gathered that when you don’t feel judged or if you don’t criticize others, there is space to give and receive acceptance, and acceptance of the self and others is a valuable treasure. I learned that demands on the self and others create much pressure and strain, which produce a heaviness that weighs down on a person. I observed that a smile, no judgment, and no demands toward others help spread happiness. The jewels of Bhutan and the lessons learned from my tour guide could be read in some books or articles. However, experiencing it is an uplifting spiritual journey and an exhilarating and refreshing adventure.

Traveling to Bhutan and Mongolia, both worthy trips in their scenery and uniqueness, also had other jewels. The tour guides also gave me a glimpse into its people. The lessons learned from their way of being can only help me improve and be a better person. I still carry with me the precious gifts I extracted from them. Be present, enjoy your surroundings, spend time with nature, and make time to be in quiet places. Accept more often instead of criticizing or judging others. Give and help others more than you demand. Smile. Share yourself and have deep and meaningful conversations even with strangers. I still carry with me the precious gifts I received from them. Indeed, people make a difference in what stays in the memory bank.

The Beauty of Being Alone
“It is too bad you don’t enjoy your own company.” I saw these words somewhere and wrote them down because they instantly changed my negative feelings of guilt to positive feelings of joy. It killed my belief that something was wrong with being alone or enjoying being alone. I heard society tell me it was not okay to be alone or to enjoy being alone. So, the guilt had me secretly enjoying it without letting others know. As if I triumphed to the finishing line of a race, I raised my arms to celebrate that enjoying my own company was okay or nothing was wrong with it.

As I fill my days, squeezing more and more time for my writing passion and enjoying the soothing rain and piano music I listen to while writing, a smile lights up my face. I am content in solitude. I am satisfied in peace.

I chuckle that while some may not enjoy their own company, I enjoy my own company. I have lived with family, relatives, roommates, and a husband. Some were okay, and some were not. Living alone, however, I have found that there is beauty in being alone. I am now unapologetic and unashamed and, instead, rejoice for being alone.

Because I live alone, my private abode has fewer distractions and noises. My surroundings provide me the space to do many things I could not otherwise do well in the presence of others.

After the strain and stresses of work, I walk home to enter my cozy apartment. The sky-blue or baby-blue walls and stillness immediately surround me to alleviate the headache and tension from my job. I am thankful for the free medicine it provides me. I am soon relaxed and recharged.

By journaling, I can express my inner thoughts, reflect, and analyze without interruptions from another person. I can let my voice out by singing to release endorphins and reduce stress. By coloring, my senses calm and relax me. By writing my stories of adversity, I find the silver lining and discover epiphanies to soothe my soul. 

Comfort in being alone is that there is no pretense. I need not worry about being judged, criticized, or restricted in whatever I do. The privacy that naturally comes with aloneness also brings freedom to do whatever I want, and however I want without considering others. It is my me time; it is time to attend to myself after a long day of attending to everyone else’s needs at work. While I do have moments of satisfaction in helping others at work, I also treasure the time to do what gives me delight and do some self-care. Taking the time to do so can only bring peace of mind and happiness. That makes being alone beautiful. I am glad to enjoy my company and the benefits that come with it.

Key Takeaways
Though I enjoyed the beautiful scenery and had fun traveling, the most memorable was the company I kept.

Though I am often alone, I enjoy my own company.

Next week, you will hear two real-life stories called He Called Me a Crab & From Pain to Purpose. If you enjoyed this episode of Eye-Opening Moments, please text someone and ask them what they think about this podcast, or go to www.inspiremereads.com and leave a message. Thank you for listening!