Jet Hag
Don't go west, young woman
During my 20s and 30s I would travel in a primarily westerly direction from my home in Nebraska. Not because of anything Horace Greeley quoted in the nineteenth century, but because my aunt lives in Washington State and my uncle lives in California. I had friends in Portland and in-laws in Spokane. Back then, the closest Krishna Das would come to Omaha was (and still is) Denver and Boulder. (We hosted him in Omaha in 2012 and only 100 people showed up, so who can blame him). I digress, but driving west (or east) nine hours across Nebraska is incredibly numbing to one’s brain. It is soul-crushing, and I do not recommend.
When discussing the directional advantages and disadvantages of travel, I acknowledge the distinction between “round trip” and “one way.” A round-trip ticket or a “return” as the Brits call it, means you are coming back. This is what is happening with most of us - we come back to the kids, the mortgage, the dog. A one-way ticket is often indicative of a move, and it makes the airlines nervous when it’s international. If you go west (young woman), you are going to eventually turn around.
Frustrated with the digestive and sleep troubles brought on by flying west, I began to head east in my 40s and 50s. Chicago, New York City. Virginia, Upstate New York. Scotland. Italy. Scotland again. Nova Scotia. Ireland. I’ve been to Japan twice, which is westwardly if you are traveling from the Midwest, but those trips felt more like entering a portal into a black hole where you temporarily lose consciousness and then end up on another planet. Do not under any circumstances have the chicken in-flight.
The direction in which you travel matters. The vertical northerly and southerly directions have never bothered me as much as the horizontal, for the obvious time zone reasons. I love my aunt and uncle, but as I look to the west, I blink and think “mmm…. no. Not that way.” It just doesn’t feel right. It feels like it’s the wrong direction.
During a Sunday dinner less than two weeks ago in Ireland, I explained all this directional travel theory to sisters Ceil, Pat, and brother Thomas. Thomas made a comment relating to his confusion about why I had no desire to fly to California. Ceil said, “Because it’s the wrong way.” She gets me.
Returning from five months in the UK is just harder this year. I feel like I am underwater. And drunk. And coming down with the flu. Last year didn’t feel like this, even though I was gone for the same duration of five months. My theory is that since I came home later than usual - late April vs early to mid-March - the crop dusting in Nebraska is in full swing on top of a severe drought, making everything we breathe heavy and toxic. Living in the UK and Ireland is like living on top of a heavily saturated sponge, and we are busy looking down to avoid stepping in a mud puddle. Living in Nebraska is like…living in an atrium. We are eyes akimbo looking upward and braced for the inevitable tornadoes.
My favorite Substacks this week: Hallelujah Anyway, and Canada Resists
Blessings & Hugs,
