The Epilogue

To be completely honest, I’ve been dreading the process of finally writing this post. Maybe “dreading” isn’t the right word apprehensive, maybe. Let’s just say the thought of arriving at this moment has been the cause of some anxiety in my life – well, this amongst other things. I suppose I’ve felt a bit uneasy about having to answer all of the “mandatory” questions that must be addressed in this epilogue (outro if it were a rap album). Questions regarding whether I’ve changed as a person or whether or not my trip lead me to discover my life’s purpose. You know, just those “casual”, existential questions a writer has to answer to the delight of his or her readers (in my case, all four of you). Well here are your answers: yes, and no, and maybe, and sorta, and I don’t f*cking know. And that’s the honest truth.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. If I may, let me first preface this blog post a bit so I can utilize what little bit of organizational skills I posses. In case you get lost in my chaotic, scrambled thought processes, here’s what I aim to achieve with this one. First; I want to shed some light on the reasons why I struggled in coming around to writing this post – some of them are more obvious than others. Second; let me give you a little insight as to what it’s been like for me being back home, in the beautiful Bay Area, after experiencing the greatest adventure of my life (so far). Also, for those who have taken or plan on taking post-grad trips–or really any lengthy trip at all, I've got some advice for you on what worked and what definitely did not work for me in dealing with “post-trip depression”. Lastly, I want to share with you one of the most important lessons I’ve learned in the last five-ish months of my life. So here we go... and once again, to those of you still bearing with me and reading my work; my gratitude for you is endless.

Am I still interesting if I’m not in Cambodia? Or China, or Slovenia, or any of the twenty different countries I was lucky enough to set foot in during my travels? Is my life still interesting if I’m back home, living with my parents in the Bay Area? I’ve asked myself this over and over again in the months that have followed my return from Europe – because let’s be honest, you liked me a little better when I was traveling to interesting places and doing cool things right? I mean sh*t, I even liked myself better when I was a worldly traveler. So why would I even bother writing another blog post? Why would I share anything else with this crazy community we call “the internet”? You see, when I started this blog I had little to no expectations of the kind of reception it would receive. So I was astounded by the amount of positive responses it garnered. But when I returned home, perceptions changed.

When you venture out on a trip for an extended period of time you often ponder what it will be like to return home. How excited will your friends and family be to see you again? How much have they missed you? How eager will they be to hear all about your trip and it’s impact on your life? It can’t just be me – you guys must have these thoughts as well right? But so often your expectations aren’t met. Sure, your family wants to see pictures. Your friends want to hear all the crazy stories. Co-workers ask you, “How was your trip?” But a week later things revert back to exactly how they were before you left. No one asks you anymore questions. They aren’t curious as to how you’re adjusting or if you miss traveling. People move on. Simple as that.

So there I was, watching as all of my expectations about how people would react to my homecoming, dissipate before my eyes. And as I stood there in a perpetual (and metaphorical) stand-still, the world kept spinning... without a hitch. Is that it? Is that the moment I thought about so frequently and with such fervor? And while I couldn’t blame people for proceeding with their lives, the disillusionment lingered. So I asked myself: Why would I want to bare my soul to the world once again, when the world has made it so clear that it is no longer listening?

But maybe there were or are a few of you still listening. And a few of you is really all I need. Sh*t, if even just one of you is still listening, then I’ll keep on writing. Problem solved right? Write something new Garrett, I told myself. But it wasn’t that easy. What I quickly learned was that my words weren’t just words; they were a part of me. And who I was – what I was writing, was so contingent on the environment around me. That’s when I realized the inspiration was gone... or so I thought. See my inspiration to write wasn’t really gone, it had simply transformed along with the atmosphere surrounding me. So, while for months I had convinced myself that I had nothing to write about; in fact, I had everything to write about.

But what you have to understand is how extremely difficult it was to find that inspiration again. And it wasn’t just inspiration that I had to re-discover. I had to find motivation again – because getting up and out of my bed every morning was harder than it had ever been. I had to find meaning again–because the answers I was convinced I had found in foreign lands no longer answered the new questions that had arisen upon my return home. And I had to find happiness again–because the sensation I had unearthed during my journey abroad faded quickly once I had set foot back on US soil.

And it takes time. Boy does it take time. So undoubtedly the easiest piece of advice I can give is to practice patience religiously. This is a skill I felt that I had refined thoroughly while traveling. What I didn’t realize is that I would have to practice a whole different kind of patience when I returned home. While I was abroad the patience I developed was a patience for things like new culture, customs, and challenges regarding my lifestyle on the road. But being back home, I’ve had to work on being patient in the process of readjustment and progress. Allowing myself time to re-acclimate while also planning my next step forward has proved to be a difficult balancing act. What worked for me was taking small steps forward. Don’t put unrealistic expectations on yourself to jump into something serious or strenuous immediately upon your return. It may sound kind of ridiculous but I really believe you need to give your mind a decompression period after experiencing so many new places, cultures and people. But there is a fine line between taking small steps and falling into a routine of dullness, so to speak. What I mean by this is it can be easy to fall into a state of “post-trip depression”. It’s a very real thing, I promise. It’s easy to return home and feel a lack of excitement, and become complacent. I found myself caught in nostalgia and longing for adventure. But you can find excitement wherever you are. Try new things, meet new people, broaden your horizons and you’ll get yourself out of that slump. I promise.

Here comes the conclusion, which if you’ve read any of my past blog posts, you know is always the sappiest part. Oh well – deal with it. So what is one of the most important things I’ve come to realize in the recent months since returning home? I’ll give you a hint: it plays off the whole “patience” theme.

I’ve come to notice a serious drawback that impacts many people on this Earth – myself included. So many of us need instant-satisfaction, instant solutions, instant information. We need everything to happen quickly. Yes, I know this applies largely to us millennials. We’ve become so accustom to getting everything we need at the click of a button, or a phone call, or the pop of a pill. We’ve forgotten that things take time. Did I say that already? Well I’ll say it again. THINGS TAKE TIME. Good things take time to happen. Bad things take time to get better. For me this really sunk in when I came back home. I learned so much about the world while traveling, but mostly I learned about myself. I was eager to apply the things I learned to my everyday life back in states. I was excited to make meaningful changes to my lifestyle and my overall outlook on the world. But upon my return I felt that I quickly regressed to my old habits and tendencies. And for the longest time I was sure that I hadn’t changed at all. That everything that I thought I had learned was an illusion and my trip hadn’t expanded my mind or soul whatsoever. I thought I hadn’t grown at all over the six months I was gone. But in reality I had just forgotten to practice what I’ve been preaching this whole time; patience. Yeah, I learned a lot on my travels, but why did I think they would be instantly applicable back home? Why did I think I would suddenly be an expert on any knowledge that I acquired? I forgot that I have to continue to practice these new skills, remind myself of the lessons I learned and give them time to develop. Like I said, good things take time.

And bad things take time to get better. We all have our flaws. We all have our scars. We all have our demons. Our flaws won’t be fixed overnight. Our scars won’t heal overnight. And our demons will not be exorcised overnight. We have to allow ourselves time for change. And you better believe the cuts and scars that lie deep beneath our physical flesh and skin will be the ones that will take the longest to heal. It may not be tomorrow. It may not be next month. It may not even be next year. But with time and a little help from the loved ones around you, broken things can be mended. Take life day by day, and step by step and the good things will happen, and the bad things will get better. Simple, right?

And with that traveling Garrett (GBaby) will bid you a farewell... for now. He’ll be back in due time. That’s a promise. Thanks again for all you who are listening. It feels great to be heard.

-G