“Possessions, outward success, publicity, luxury - to me these have
always been contemptible. I believe that a simple and unassuming manner
of life is best for everyone, best for both the body and the mind.”
For one year, I lived out of a suitcase. This particular odyssey proved to be challenging, as it goes with the territory. When I was young, I was mesmerized by Ulysses' heroic feats and devoured both of Homer's books, The Odyssey and the Iliad. While on a trip to Epirus, a region of northwest Greece, I was delighted when our tour guide announced that we would be stopping at the river Acheron, one of the five rivers of the Greek underworld. When the dead person arrived there, at the mouth of the river, they were ferried across by Charon, the ferryman, and took their place among the rest of the departed souls.I walked the path up along the river, along with many others, and tried to imagine what this place was like in the 8th century B.C.
As I strolled along the path and listened to the gentle sounds of the flowing river, the laughter of the children and chatter of tourists, I stopped and closed my eyes. The earth smelled fresh and moist, as though it was the first day of creation. I took deep breaths and leaned against an ancient tree, hoping its secrets would penetrate my weary soul. I wanted, more than ever, to escape my ordered life and begin anew; I was tired of the same routine, same faces, same predictable happenings. On the stage of my life, the same sets and scenes unfolded year after year; the script rarely changed, or, if it was about to be revised, I decided to keep the original, afraid of the new.
When I opened my eyes. I saw a man who was smiling at me, holding a tiny bouquet of herbs in his hands. I moved closer, responding to his invitation with a reluctant smile and he wasted no time in explaining his mission:the herb's name is nettle, he said, and it was to be drunk and to be used as a hair rinse after shampooing. I told him that I loved eating nettle pies but unfortunately I could not make one myself. Also, I had read that Alexander the Great had his soldiers rolling in fields of nettle before going to battle to make them more powerful warriors. "You may not be a good cook but you are a true historian!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. Then, playfully, he asked me how old I thought he was. 'Thirty-five", I said, thinking fast. You know that people always go a little lower when we ask them this question, just in case.....
He threw his head back and laughed heartily. "Try again!" he challenged me. "Forty", I replied. I wondered what he would say if I asked him how old he thought I was. No, better not. He now shook his head negatively, in his particular Greek way. "Ohi, ohi', he said, his smile showing a perfect set of white teeth. "Fifty-five". I looked at him in shock and reached for my wallet. Immediately. We chatted a bit and then other people came to the booth so I waved goodbye.
As I held the miraculous herb in my hands, I had an epiphany; I wanted to travel and collect experiences, not things. No more material things. All my life I had dreamed of the perfect home, so I bought and decorated, and gave away furniture and bought some more. My life centered on duty, waiting for others to arrive and leave, supporting, teaching, nurturing, planning, but not living. There was very little life in that life of mine. "Where is the life we have lost in living?", T.S Elliot asks.
Odysseus took ten long years to return to his home in Ithaca. I had spent over two decades in a small Greek town.
So I found myself in Spain, all my belongings stuffed in a pink suitcase.
