Spiritual Journeys: Traveling in Search of the Divine

Sightseeing. Recreation. Indulgence. Rest and Relaxation. 

Different people have different motives for travel, with few ever stepping onto a plane without possessing at least some vague goal or aspiration for the exciting excursion ahead. Verily, no one can deny the wonder of travel as a force for exposure and a foundation for experience, an escape from life's routines and a means to explore new horizons and potentials. Yet for some out there, travel can serve a far more complex and mind-altering function, marked by that metaphysical moment when vacations morph into voyages and jaunts turn into journeys.

Probably the oldest purpose for travel in human history has been the concept of pilgrimage - the quest in search of God. For millennia, Man has felt an inner calling to migrate towards sacred sites and supernatural centers for the sake of understanding himself, discovering truth, and communing with the Divine. Whether shifting with the sands towards Mecca, flowing along the Ganges through Varanasi, or pouring like baptismal waters into the Holy Land, people throughout the world have undertaken long arduous missions to prove their piety and attain the elusive yet overwhelming sense of spiritual bliss. With a notion so powerful waiting at the journey's end, it is no surprise that both the largest migrations and largest gatherings of mankind on the planet are the products of such unbelievable displays of devotion.

Uzbek woman recites from the Quran at a mosque in Samarqand

Ethiopian Orthodox priest takes a rest in Lalibela

Romanian grandmother conversing with a saint

A traveling Tibetan pilgrim passes a shrine at dawn while chanting and spinning a hand-held prayer wheel

In light of my skepticism, I certainly have not been an exception among the world's faithful, having myself dabbled in nearly every available religion over the course of my life and travels. Through the hallowed sights I've seen, the pious communities I've met, and the ritualistic cultures I've faced, I have dipped my feet into countless oceans of wisdom in the meandering search for genuine transcendence. From the Bible to the Quran, from the Vedas to the Sutras, the written works of prophets and sages have all found their respective niches on my sagging bookshelf. Their fundamental promises of enlightenment through good thoughts, good words, and good deeds, continue to echo repeatedly in my head... identical messages merely written in different languages. 

In my mystical wanderings, I've humbly answered the muezzin's call to prayer from towering minarets. I've openly confessed my sins to friars deep within vaulted cathedrals. I've prostrated alongside ascetics before bejeweled idols, as well as left copious offerings at age-old ancestral shrines. Whether through meditation with monks or ceremonies with shamans, my mind and body have both spanned the spectrum of consciousness from listlessness to liveliness, all in the hope of grasping any remote feeling of an omnipotent presence. 

How blind I was.

Peruvians light votive candles and offer Christmas prayers at a cathedral in Arequipa

Cambodian family offering incense at Angkor Wat

Praying at a mosque in East Turkestan

Statues of Buddhas and ancestral spirits decorate an altar concealed within a sacred cave in Northern Vietnam

While many sought refuge within the confined sanctuaries of imposing monuments to offer their prayers, I internally longed for the vast expanse of an imposing and monumental earth to offer my gratitude. As others surrounded themselves with devout friends in some communal effort to find intimacy with God, I felt I was simply surrounding myself with different gods in some personal effort to find intimacy with friends. What apparently imparted spiritual fulfillment to others seemed to do nothing remarkable for me.

Rather, I began to contemplate and draw profound inspiration from more subtle moments during my adventures, rendered speechless by the view of a primordial landscape or touched by the generous gifts of a hospitable people. Bringing that introspection back home, my developing transcendental awareness began to give new significance to simple routines, warmed by the spicy flavors of my mother's daily cooking or invigorated by cycling alongside my best friend. The entirety of Life for me suddenly became a pilgrimage in itself, yet without need for a final destination. My homage would be paid to the physical journey - the ephemeral present - along with my immeasurable appreciation for the natural wonders that subdue me and the compassionate characters who sustain me along the way.  

Inside Istanbul's Aya Sofiya, an ancient sanctuary for both Christians and Muslims

Jesus gazing down in a Sicilian church

Buddha gazing down in a Burmese temple

I am not a religious authority. I am not a philosopher. But I firmly believe that we all must discover for ourselves our own unique truth, a search that could very well divert us from the over-trodden pilgrim trail. We should never fear our ability to question the route to spiritual bliss, even if it means walking it alone. I am a traveler. Travel paved for me a new outward path for my inward passage. 

So in the end, does God actually exist? No amount of travel may ever be able to answer that question for me. But while continuing on this life-long pilgrimage, I have come to realize for myself that a divine power won't be found in churches or mosques, temples or shrines. It is so much larger, so much more universal than that. Divine power exists everywhere around me, in the moments I live and the people I love.