It’s a fact–I travel a lot. While some may lament the time standing in line for security checks or passport control, I find them to be as routine as taking a shower or choosing what clothes to wear. It’s true that some processes are longer or some can be an exercise of patience when egos feel a need to either establish or control situations. Still, in general, it’s a small, fairly insignificant part of the travel experience.

Despite this, I admit to having had some anxiety about my trip back to the USA this time around. I hadn’t been for about a year, and global circumstances have recently been thrown into chaos. As a non-white American, I have had occasions in which my nationality and inclusivity were questioned. Also, because I actively do not watch the news nor pay much attention to politics, I only catch bits and pieces from conversations or snippets on social media if it happens to cross my feed. It feels like estranged times, yet, I have traveled before with questionable circumstances and not had any problems. This is what I told myself to alleviate growing anxiety. 

It turns out, as experience has shown, that I had nothing to concern myself over. In fact, from within the boundaries, unless one sits watching the news all day long, there is no evidence that anything catastrophic could be happening in other countries. So, my therapy-induced plan to move from anxiety to anticipation was both unnecessary and effective.

Instead, I spent quality time with my family in Arizona and in Oregon. 

Thinking that I would find myself with quite a bit of down time just hanging out, which I did, I had planned to do a fair amount of writing, which I did not. 

There’s something about being around people who make you feel comfortable being in your own skin that makes it difficult to write. It’s a completely different level of comfort that I have with my partner, which doesn’t give me pause in my writing life. Yet, somehow when I am “home”, I question spending time writing. No doubt there are multiple layers around the psychology of this. The first and foremost is the fact that I am traveling, just visiting without a routine or space for writing. Yet, I do travel a lot, as I said. And, I do write a lot when I am traveling. So, obviously that is not all of it.

There is also, likely, some childhood psychology of not fully considering the act of writing as a “job” or a worthy pastime. Even at almost 50-years-old, I can physically feel the words from being told that I should find a job/career that pays me a living wage. Even knowing more about the writing industry and that there are plenty of options to achieve this does not assuage the buried concern and potential for disappointment. While I am not traumatized by the sentiment, nor do I necessarily care, I think there are residues of the experience that remain floating in the spaces around my family.

Most importantly, though, I think that my brain pauses the creative forces fighting for the main stage to allow for me to just be present and process the here and now. Or, at least, this is what I want to be the main reason.

Whatever it is, it really doesn’t matter. My visits are brief and I love just spending time with family–holding them dear, giving them love through time and attention, making the most of all the moments. 

Now, it’s back to traveling and writing whilst sitting in a lounge (as I am doing now). I am not being particularly productive right now, though one might be willing to celebrate getting this blog post written as better than nothing. However, I did get up early this morning and got about 1,000 words written on my novel. So, THAT is something considering it’s been over two weeks since I’ve made any major progress.

An author I follow on Substack wrote recently about the importance of writing retreats. He says he completes all his books by going on a retreat. I found this interesting because it’s true that when I have booked myself away for a couple of nights just to write, I get so much more done. However, anything over that, my rate of productivity drops massively. My consistency with scheduling these retreats has waned a bit, but I’m thinking I need to, at minimum, do more cafe writing dates on my own, out of the house, and without distractions–I tend to use cafe times to meet up with friends, which definitely does not lead to lots of writing getting done.

So, there you have it–a circular post on the role of travel on my writing productivity and the differing result when being around familiar beings. My takeaways are: to not lament not writing whilst with my family and friends; embrace the moments when the writing flows whether while traveling or sitting at home at my own desk; and take more time to “retreat” in a cafe or perhaps even return to scheduling some short retreats away when the opportunity presents itself.

Well, I must dash now, it’s about time to board my flight!

~T 🔥🐉♋️