WANDERER
I am a wanderer. I wander because as a type seven on the Enneagram, I always have this sense as if I am missing out on something fun and exciting. I want to go on a “magic carpet ride” exploring beyond the accepted boundaries of the horizon. I confess that I have FOMO (fear of missing out). I find myself being drawn to crowds while my wife desperately avoids crowds. This is a tension in our marriage. :) I wander because I feel like the grass is always greener on the other side.
I also wander not because I am hopelessly lost but in order to discover who I am—my true self. Bilbo Baggins said, “All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost.” I have experienced from time to time that when I am in brand new situations and contexts or out on the “fringes,” I have “seen” myself much more clearly. I love to travel because it is a pathway for me to discover who I am. I know to whom I belong, but the road back home is less clear. Not only is the road less clear but because it is uniquely my journey.
Saint Teresa of Avila wrote, “The whole way to heaven is heaven itself.”
To wander is to wonder. I cannot fathom wandering without wondering. The wonders we encounter are both external and internal. The most significant wonders that I have been invited to pay attention to are wonders within. The interior wonders color how I see and interpret exterior wonders.
When my family immigrated to the States in 1977, I was 14 years old. For the next 14 years or so, I lived my life as a Korean living in America—my identity was Korean through and through, or so I thought. Fifteen years later, in 1992, I visited Korea for the first time. I remember being excited to visit my motherland. What I quickly realized was that I had become so “American,” I didn’t see myself as a Korean anymore. This confusion of my identity took me to an interior journey of trying to discover who I was and what I had become. I discovered that I was neither Korean nor American, but Korean-American. I was a “hyphenated being”! Words like liminality and bridge began to grab hold of me.
The root meaning of the word wander has its connections to wind and change. Wind is as free as the sky. Wind is a true child of freedom. Wind is also mother to all birds’ movements, aiding their freedom and creativity. “Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?” sings Pocahontas. Not only does wind “carry the colors,” it also carries countless layers of creative climate. In many cultures, wind has many names. Wandering provokes and triggers change. Change is the natural by-product of wanderings. Welcoming change is another name for wandering.
We all are wanderers. The journey in life is never a straight line from origin to destination. It is filled with unexpected turns and twists and dark valleys and breath-taking peaks. We are bound to wander. Sometimes we wander because we have no other choice. To be blunt, we must wander. Our soul is poor and desperate to wander because it is constantly filled with longings. Our soul always remains loyal and faithful to our longings. Our soul is like a homing device to our longings. It is always seeking home.
As such, as wanderers, we meet other wanderers, comparing our notes and ever learning from each other. Finding and deeply connecting with these wanderers who are in similar life stages and challenges is a critical life’s duty for all. Those who wander well are those who pay attention (or listen) to the unexpected unfolding drama of life and those who learn to travel lightly (holding things loosely). Listening is expecting surprises and letting our curiosities guide our life in everyday mundane contexts while being awake to God’s presence. Listening is looking for and celebrating the sacred even in “secular” activities.
“The soul is full of wanderlust. When we suppress the longing to wander in the inner landscapes, something dies within us. The soul and the spirit are wanderers; their place of origin and destination remain unknown; they are dedicated to the discovery of what is unknown and strange.”
Holding things loosely doesn’t mean we have no convictions or strong beliefs. It means we hold those convictions loosely and remain open and willing to be transformed in the way we see. In life, we are guided more by the questions we ask rather than dogmatic answers and beliefs. To me, this is a quality of being vulnerable. Wanderers are vulnerable creatures.
Paula D’Arcy says, “God comes to you disguised as your life.”
In the end, we wander because we all are guests, strangers, and students to life. Nobody is already at home; instead, all are journeying to discover our pathway home. The idea of all of us being guests, strangers, and students to life itself levels the playing field. No one is up or down, in or out, or with or without. It is a posture that beckons humility and surrender.