As I dangled from the TelefériQo, 10,000 above ground, the world sprawled out beneath me. Jagged squares of green and brown blanketed the earth below, stitched together like the patchwork quilts my grandmother sewed by hand. Rashes of miniature houses spread like bits of seashell along the shore. We descended through mountains of cloud and rock and I felt it: Life beckoned.
That was over two years ago on the first morning of a nearly two-week trip in Ecuador. For whatever reason, my husband and I decided it was a great idea to make that journey when I was newly pregnant. I scaled cliffs, survived a mean speedboat ride, showed up in the Galápagos without any reservations, and rode yet another teleferico—which, I’m pretty sure, was powered by a lawn mower engine and scotch tape. A far cry from my life today.
Were we just careless and stupid?
Maybe. But I was happy. I look back now and marvel at the person I was. I remember basking in the vastness that surrounded me on that first morning on the TelefériQo. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt more alive or connected to all of humanity. I knew that fresh experiences and perspectives awaited me. I felt the sheer potentiality of the journey ahead and the new life blooming within me. I was in this foreign space, at the beginning of a blank page waiting to be filled—and it felt like home.
It’s strange, the way we can lose ourselves for so long, absorbed in the day-to-day drudgery of deadlines and dishes and diapers and doctors appointments and yada yada. It can be difficult to dig out of the minutiae and really experience anything. We tend to forget how to just be present in the moment. We fail to remember that life extends far beyond our little corner of it. We miss the view from the top.
My little fleeting moments of happiness and clarity are just that—moments. Moments like all the others that come and go, and sometimes seem endless, but are impossible to hold. It’s the stuff life’s made of. I can’t say that I’m unhappy in my life now, but I do think it’s time for me to find my way back home.
I hear there’s no place like it.