Magical Journeys

"All journeys have secret destinations, of which the traveler is unaware," Martin Buber, 1958.

I. Auntie Carol, my teenage aunt, is babysitting me, and she takes me across the street from her house. Once we’re on the sidewalk, we go around the corner, and down some steps, and she pushes open a door.

It’s a basement, with a smell: a combination of cooked food, bleach, cigarette smoke, and mold.

We are in the basement of an apartment building, and we get in the elevator.

I get to press the button: L for Lobby… ooh we’re going up!

I can hardly wait for what Auntie Carol wants to show me… the elevator thuds to a jolting stop…

When we step out, it’s into a huge hall, with golden tapestries and plush red velvet chairs, dark wood carved all curlicues and columns, set in the walls, with grooves and torches… I know they have lightbulbs, but they flicker like flames…

This is a palace! I know it must be a palace, and the front doors are made of etched glass, with a portrait of the princes and princesses who must live here…

After I breathe a quick story about the princes and princesses, Auntie Carol asks me the best question in the world:

“Again?”

We open those beautiful glass doors and race around the corner to the basement door.

Again. And again. And. Again.

II. 2020: Midsummer: One morning, I go for a walk.
I’ve been walking a lot during the shutdown. As long as I can go outside and stay 6 feet away from anyone else in the neighborhood. It’s later than I usually walk, and the sun is blinding if there’s no shade.

Ahead, there’s a shadow on a street, a promise of shade. I turn left onto this tiny street… I see a house on the left side of the street. It’s got a stone porch and lots of sports signs from schools I’ve never attended.

Kind of unusual. But I don’t like it.

Then I cross to the other side, and I realize I’ve never been on this street before. In the shade, the sunlight dances through the leaves like fairy dust.

I see a house that I like much better, in the yard, surprise lilies coming up, and I like them.

And once I know where I am, I walk there often. Again. And again. And. Again.

And it’s always magical.

I’m just asking:

1. Have you ever gone on a journey and found a secret destination?

2. What did you find there?

Do you like getting lost? What do you like about it?

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Photo by Kostiantyn Li on Unsplash