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60-Something Digital Nomad Tells All!

by Joyce McGreevy on August 12, 2020

Joyce McGreevy, a blogger for OIC Moments, shares her lessons learned from travel as a 60-something digital nomad. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

On a plane, a train, a bus? Who knows? But I was giddy with wanderlust.
© Joyce McGreevy

10 Lessons I Learned from Travel

A tabloid headline floats over a deer-in-the-headlights photo of a 60-something woman. She’s been caught in the act of . . . traveling solo!  As a digital nomad! This is what I picture whenever people express shock that I once sold my condo, donated most of my possessions, packed a small suitcase, and began traveling full time—while continuing to work.

Becoming a digital nomad is not unusual. But doing so as an older woman tends to flabbergast those around you.

People reacting to women’s life choices with shock is nothing new, of course. But there comes a time when anything a woman does that’s slightly outside of the norm prompts the response, “At your age?” A survey of  female friends reveals that this happens from ages 2 to 102. Before and after those troublesome years, you’re free to do what you like without judgment.

Meanwhile, Your Honors, I plead guilty as charged. For 5 years, I was (gasp!) an older digital nomad. Shameless travel hussy that I am, I’d have continued this lifestyle for another 5 years but for the pandemic.

Have I learned my lesson? Oh, yes.  There are at least 10 packable lessons I’ve learned from travel.

A sun dial with a clock face and writing instruments in Ireland reminds a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy

Travel lesson learned in Ireland: Don’t let the clock run out on your life goals.
© Joyce McGreevy

1. If you’ve got a goal, get going. 

I’m so glad I didn’t dither and miss my chance to travel. That I didn’t let age or modest finances deter me. That I didn’t think, “This must work out perfectly or it will be a disaster.”

Instead, I saw it as one more chapter in a lifelong series of learning adventures.

Travel lesson learned: Not every goal is about travel, but every goal is a journey. Don’t get stuck in park.

A list of subway stations in Bulgaria reminds a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Bulgaria: To hone your navigational skills, keep challenging them.
© Joyce McGreevy

2. When you travel, you’re visiting someone’s home.

If you went to a neighbor’s house for the first time, you wouldn’t

  • elbow past them to take selfies in front of their artwork.
  • hunker down in their doorway to eat fast food.
  • make unfiltered comments on anything you see. “What a tiny fridge! Why’s this house so o-o-old?”
  • carve your initials on their walls and trees.

Yet residents of Venice, Barcelona, and other great cities have decried such behavior among a small but exasperating segment of travelers.

Travel lesson learned: Be curious, not injurious. Enjoy, don’t annoy.

3. Trying to see everything is the best way to miss most of it.

You would think that someone who’d spent several years traveling would have covered most of the globe by now.

Nope.

If there’s such a thing as Slow Travel, then I’m its biggest fan. Wherever I went, I lingered. I wanted a close-up view of everyday life, not a blurred view of every attraction. Even on short layovers I learned that slowing down is the key to gaining insight into a place.

Travel lesson learned: Take a trip, not an ego trip.

International signposts in Norway remind a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Norway: Don’t engage in competitive travel.
So what if others have traveled farther, faster, or “before it was trendy”?
© Joyce McGreevy

4. Your feet are to travel what great novels are to reading. 

“I have the European urge to use my feet when a drive can be dispensed with,” wrote Nabokov. Walking is a timeless activity, one that leads to in-the-moment observations and personal connections with history. When you explore a city on foot, it’s like losing yourself in a great work of literature as opposed to scanning tweets—it’s immersive, asks more of you, and richly rewards you, too.

Travel lesson learned: One mindful walk is better than a dozen rushed tours.

An overhead view of a river walk in Croatia reminds a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Croatia: Discover new perspectives.
© Joyce McGreevy

5. No matter how light you pack, you won’t need half of it.

This is true whether you’re traveling to one country or 10, for 10 days or 10 weeks, and to formal or informal settings. If you need things you didn’t pack, you can buy them there. But if you pack things you don’t need, you still must carry them everywhere.

Travel lesson learned: The less you lug, the more carefree you’ll be.

A coatrack, a suitcase, and a travel mascot in Greece remind a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Greece: A hook to hang my apron is all I need to feel at home.
© Joyce McGreevy

Travel lesson learned: The less you lug, the more carefree you’ll be.

6. We should talk to strangers more often.

No one’s asking you to follow someone down a dark alley, or to re-enact “My Dinner with André” on a six-hour train ride. But travel is a golden opportunity to find out what the rest of the world is thinking.

Don’t let that nifty travel app blind you to the people around you. Even language barriers can be overcome by empathy, smiles, laughter, and a bit of awkward miming.

Travel lesson learned: When we acknowledge each other, we extend the reach of community across cultures.

A baker making lavash bread in Turkey reminds a digital nomad aof lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Turkey: Savor world flavors—learn to cook cross-culturally.
© Joyce McGreevy

7. Don’t just look at the world, taste it.

My mother was an avid traveler and cook whose everyday repertoire celebrated global diversity. This is why my own journeys have always included culinary field trips. Exploring farmers markets, finding affordable cooking lessons, and swapping kitchen tales with locals is a great way to connect across cultures.

Travel lesson learned:  “When life gives you lemons,” find out how local cooks use them!

8. Solo travel is glorious. So is the right traveling companion.

I love traveling solo. It nudges me out of my comfort zone and lets me be spontaneous.

I even learned to love dining solo without hiding behind a book. Often, this led to conversations with locals, who generously shared insights into their country’s history, lesser known landmarks, and of course, culinary culture.

Traveling with others can be Paradiso. Or Inferno. It’s all about attitude. I’ve witnessed travelers who waste time arguing. “I don’t know which museum! I thought you’d know which museum!” Who respond to any glitch by fuming, “This would never happen in [Anytown], USA!”

But sometimes you get to travel with people who embrace adventure, immerse themselves in a culture, and try new things. They find the upside of setbacks and help you notice things you would otherwise have missed.

Travel lesson learned: Travel in good company—your own or others.

Two loving travel companions in Ireland remind a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Enjoying another traveler’s perspective is like seeing two worlds at once.
© Joyce McGreevy

9. The best souvenirs aren’t things.

Traveling with one small suitcase meant I couldn’t get weighed down with “stuff.” But there’s no limit on the customs one can carry home.

Like Italy’s passeggiata—an elegant evening stroll. Or Montrealers’ love of reading in city parks—books, not cellphones. Or the Irish habit of acknowledging passersby with a greeting or at least a nod. Wearing a mask doesn’t diminish the pleasure of these rituals.

Travel lesson learned: Bring back new ideas, not knickknacks.

10. Fresh starts are a type of travel.

When I returned to the States, I moved to Bend, Oregon. The only people I knew locally were my sisters and their families. And because of Covid, only some of us could get together without risk.

But because of travel, I don’t feel lonely. Because of travel, I know there’s always a way to navigate and connect.

I’ve met fellow Oregonians by joining a volunteer group that meets online. I hike along the Deschutes River. I download library books that explore the history and beauty of the state.

A museum with a rainbow panorama walkway in Denmark reminds a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Denmark: True progress means raising each other up.
© Joyce McGreevy

Having been a working nomad, I’m used to being productive from anywhere. I’m also used to getting on Zoom to catch up with the people I’ve met around the world. We share our joys, our worries, our national issues. You may consider these visits “virtual,” but the friendships are real.

Maybe that’s why I’ve adopted an explorer’s approach to our world’s surreal new circumstances. Oh, I see: Because of lessons learned from travel, I feel more at home on this vulnerable planet and within my vulnerable self.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Let a Tune Transport You!

by Joyce McGreevy on July 28, 2020

A band playing zydeco suggests why the author’s travel memories inspired by music include the vibrant city of New Orleans. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

“Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?” Hearing zydeco takes me right back.
© Joyce McGreevy

Travel Memories Inspired by Music

Imagine a melody with the power to recreate worlds. The cocoa-butter scented breeze of a beach in Maui in 1979—when it’s 2020 and you’re in Montréal. The soaring elegance of a train station in Leipzig—as you drift off to sleep in Lincoln City.

That’s what happens when a tune, any tune, becomes travel music. Oh, I see: When it comes to modes of travel, nothing transports us like music.

The influence of music on our memories has long been established by science. Music lights up the visual cortex like a rainbow-colored disco ball, spinning emotions into motion. One moment you’re pushing a shopping cart down a grocery aisle, the next moment you hear that song—and suddenly travel memories inspired by music come dancing out, whirling you along with them.

A woman exuberantly enjoying the beach reminds the author of the transportive power of travel memories inspired by music. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

At the office in January you hear a certain song, and suddenly it’s summer
and you’re barefoot on a beach in July.
© Joyce McGreevy

“Magical Mystery Tour”

Travel music can be a trickster. Like the time a song from a passing car in Chicago whisked me back to a village in France.

A basket of croissants symbolizes the way travel memories inspired by music often include vivid sensory details. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

One chorus and I recalled the taste of  fresh croissants in Port Launay.
© Joyce McGreevy

So what was the song? Something iconic like “La Vie en Rose”? Pas du tout. 

It was “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes, an alternative rock band from San Francisco.

But to memory, none of that matters. Because of where and when I heard the song, the Jukebox of Memory selected it for my subconscious travel music playlist. Hearing it again, I’m instantly back in Port Launay in 1993:

  • I taste buttery, cloud-like croissants—croissants so marvelous that I show up at the boulangerie each morning before sunup.
  • I feel the thrum of my rented Citroën zipping over the back roads—I who haven’t driven in years.
  • I see primroses around the cottage where my young son and I sit by the fire, reading Breton tales of the sea.

All that joie de vivre and Breton beauty magically preserved in an angsty California rock song. This kind of travel music mismatch, it turns out, is surprisingly common.

A jazz trio in Denmark symbolize why travel memories inspired by music make us feel as if we are re-living, not just recalling, an experience. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

You turn on the radio in Des Moines and suddenly you’re in that little jazz club in Denmark . . .
© Joyce McGreevy

“Come Fly With Me” (and other musical flights of fancy)

Of course, some travel songs are on the nose. And by “nose” I mean the nose cone of a Boeing 707 pointing up at a big blue sky. That’s where I’m transported whenever I hear “Up, Up, and Away.”

Written by Jimmy Webb and popularized by The Fifth Dimension, it became Trans World Airlines’ theme song in 1968. Five notes in, I can practically smell the jet fuel, so vividly does this tune recall the joy of a travel adventure’s beginning.

Oh, I have a whole catalog in my head labeled Travel Music Linked to Airplanes. It’s where I keep travel memories that are . .

  • Ecstatic: Art Garfunkel singing “Break Away, fly across your ocean . . . to awaken in another country.”
  • Glamorous: Joe Sample’s jazz classic “Night Flight.”
  • Wistful: Peter, Paul, and Mary’s “Leavin’ on a Jet Plane.”

Name any mode of transport and you’ll find travel songs for it. “Night Boat to Cairo,” “Last Train to Clarksville,” “On the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe” to name but a few.  Some travel songs, like “Let’s Get Away from It All,” with its boat to Bermuda, plane to Saint Paul and kayak to Quincy or Nyack, pack in every means of travel but the pogo stick.

“They Call Me the Wanderer”

Some music makes you want to travel somewhere, anywhere, even when you’re toolin’ around town on errands. Many a mild-mannered commuter has experienced raw wanderlust at hearing a classic road trip song like “Route 66” or “Born to Be Wild.”

Then there are songs that evoke longings for places we’ve never been. Like the Faroe Islands, which I researched obsessively after hearing Faroese singer-songwriter, Teitur. Indeed, millions of music lovers felt wanderlust for Cuba the first time they heard Buena Vista Social Club, the musical ensemble celebrated in the documentary of the same name.

“Summer in the City”

You could fill a library with songs about cities—from “Istanbul, Not Constantinople” and “New York State of Mind,” to two entirely different songs with the title “Galway Girl.”

A concert at Lollapalooza taken before the pandemic reminds that author that travel memories inspired by music can be comforting now that such popular events have been canceled. (Image © by Julie Larkin)

With most destination concerts canceled in 2020, we travel via musical memories.
Above: Lollapalooza, Chicago in 2017.
© Julie Larkin

Great cities, in turn, send you home with memories to unpack musically. Any song by the late, great Alain Toussaint or young visionary Trombone Shorty takes me back to New Orleans—wherever I am. And this recently released music video stirs this traveler’s fond memories of a favorite U.S. city, Chicago. Let’s go!

“Take Me Home, Country Roads”

And sometimes travel music takes me all the way home. Home, where childhood memories and my love of travel began. Where my late parents spent evenings planning family travel adventures, as popular French songs floated up from the RCA record player, those Gallic melodies mixing with the aroma of Boeuf Bourguinon from the kitchen.

That’s why whenever I hear “La Vie en Rose” I’m instantly transported .  . . to Syosset, Long Island.

To quote French cabaret singer Maurice Chevalier, “Ah yes, I remember it well!” Whether your  travel memories inspired by music transport you to a favorite destination or to the land of childhood, the common “chord” is magic—the magic that occurs when travel memories have a soundtrack.

What’s on your travel music playlist? Share a favorite tune and the travel memories it evokes for you in the comments below.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

An Audible Feast for the Global Community

by Joyce McGreevy on July 13, 2020

Hands painted to show a world map remind the author that as our global community celebrates World Listening Day, we have a world of sounds at our fingertips, online and in our physical environment. (Image by Pxhere)

Lend an ear to the world of sounds at your fingertips!

Have You Heard? World Listening Day Honors the “Hear” and Now.

Listen…do you hear that? It’s the sound of your world. From a cat’s purr to an elevator’s hum to human voices, sound is an important element of our natural and cultural environment. Shh…do you hear this? It’s the sound of people across six continents inviting you to World Listening Day, an annual event that will unite the global community this Saturday, July 18.

World Listening Day? What’s that?

I’m glad you asked. Listen closely and I’ll tell you.

A sign for Quiet Street in Bath, England sets the tone for mindful listening with the global community on World Listening Day July 18. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

The soundscape emerges when we still the noise within.
© Joyce McGreevy

It started—quietly enough—in the 1970s with a Canadian composer named Raymond Murray Schafer. His World Soundscape Project developed the fundamentals of acoustic ecology, the study of the relationship in sound between human beings and their environment.

“When you listen carefully to the soundscape,” said Schafer, “it becomes quite miraculous.”

Schafer’s ideas struck a chord with so many people around the world that in 2010, World Listening Day was founded. It falls on July 18 to honor Schafer’s birthday.

A jackrabbit with ears alert to the least sound reminds the author that listening to nature is one aspect of the mindful listening celebrated by the community on World Listening Day July 18. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

How alert are we to the sound of our world?
© Skeeze/ Pixabay

Now Hear This

This year, communities around the globe will be participating in listening events hosted by the World Listening Project. This year’s theme, created by Wildlife Sanctuary Vice President Katherine Krause is The Collective Field.

“Current times have asked each of us, individually and in concert, to retreat, reflect, and rethink the world we thought we knew,” says Krause.  And so, on this international day of awareness, Krause asks us to still the noise in our head and to listen—really, listen—to the “collective field” of overlapping environments:

  • the natural world of animals, plants, land, water, and weather.
  • the human-built soundscape of traffic, machinery, and even architecture.
  • the cultural environment—the voices we hear, and the voices we “tune out.”
Soundwaves evoke the soundscapes that the global community will tune into on World Listening Day July 18. (Image by Pixabay)

What enhances or hinders our ability to tune in to the world’s wavelengths?

Say, What?

We’ll look at—I mean “listen to”—each environment in a moment. But first, I swear I can hear what you’re thinking: Isn’t listening something we do every day?

Yes, but mostly we hear passively. Most sounds blend and wash over us, whether we’re on a conference call or a beautiful island. At other times, we focus on one particular sound, whether it’s the warble of a bird or the whine of a leaf-blower. Sound experts call this directed listening.

Active listening is when we notice how sounds affect each other, our environment, ourselves, and others. During a “quiet” walk on a beach, for example, we might hear not only seagull cries and the whoosh of the waves, but also the light drum of our footfall on firm sand, the jingling collar of a playful dog, and in the distance, scattered outbreaks of faint voices and car radio music.

Listening as a Global Community

On July 18, thousands of people around the world will participate in a wide variety of listening activities. Here are just a few suggestions.

Take a soundwalk. This is any excursion whose main purpose is listening to the environment. It is exposing our ears to every sound around us no matter where we are.

People taking an urban soundwalk, one of the best ways the global community can celebrate World Listening Day. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Wherever you live is the perfect place to take a soundwalk.
© Joyce McGreevy

Before COVID, cities from Chicago to Sydney regularly offered guided soundwalks for small groups. Today you can still glean much from a solo or shared soundwalk of your own.

Walk in silence in an area that you think you know well, such as your own neighborhood.  Listen attentively for as many sounds as possible. If walking with another, pause occasionally to compare what you’ve noticed. (Consider using  breaks to jot down lists and exchange them in silence to stay in “listening mode.” )

Map the sounds of nature. Listen to the sounds of nature—even if you’re self-isolating. Nature Sound Map (see screenshot from website below) lets you travel the world, discovering soundscapes of our planet’s wildlife, oceans, and other natural phenomena.

Map of Australia with pinpoints of recorded sounds made accessible to the global community by the Nature Soundmap website.

Hear the sounds of morning in Capertee Valley, Australia on the Nature Soundmap website.
© Wild Ambiance

Be sure to check out World Sounds (see screenshot from website below), too. This global archive offers both human-built and natural soundscapes.  What would you hear on a walk through a market in London—or in Kampong Cham, Cambodia? What does the Eiffel Tower sound like? Find out on  . . .

Screenshot from the World Sounds website that makes soundscapes recorded around the world accessible to the global community

Hear the sounds of urban life, markets, religious centers, and more nature soundscapes
on the World Sounds website. © World Sounds

Describe your day in sound. We each have a unique soundtrack that plays behind our day. As I write in my apartment, I hear the tapping of the keyboard under my fingers, the click and clink of ice in a thin glass of water, the murmur of an old refrigerator.

Sounds of the neighborhood filter in through the open window: the flute-like call of a western meadowlark, a breeze rustling Ponderosa pines, delivery trucks pulling into the parking lot, two girls discussing ice cream, and one block away, the cheers of peaceful protestors as passing drivers sound their car horns.

These sounds encapsulate not only nature and the built environment, but also several clues about the time, place, and culture in which I live. What does your day sound like? Describe it in a brief social media post or email and invite  friends to respond with the sounds of their day.

Listen to others. Part of honoring the “hear” and now is to listen mindfully to people around us, gaining insight into each other’s experiences, viewpoints, and insights. This isn’t always easy. When we’re too reactive, too dismissive, or simply unaware, it’s as if the noise of our own conditioning drowns out what others are trying to say.

A crowd at a busy airport in various modes of listening or tuning out remind the author why we need World Listening Day to reunite our global community in the act of mindful listening. (Image by Pixabay)

What do we miss when we tune out?
© Joyce McGreevy

The good news is that we can change this in a moment. We can break a “loud” habit by simply listening. We can quell the urge to instantly shut down a different opinion. We can stop one-upping a friend’s account of a significant personal experience with an oft-told tale of our own. We can refrain from retorting defensively, “Well, I’M not like that!” when someone opens up about experiencing racism, stereotyping, or other forms of bias.

Oh, I see: To hear the world clearly, we must first reckon with our own interruptions.

A man sits by the water, listening but also wearing earphones, a reminder of why we need World Listening Day to reunite our global community in the act of mindful listening. (Image by Pixabay)

What are we listening to? What don’t we hear?
© Mircea Lancu/Pixabay

Listening to the World

Wherever you are this Saturday, July 18, you can take part in World Listening Day.  Whether you listen to nature, the human-built soundscape, the environment of cultural discourse, or all three, you’re sure to experience an aha moment. Now that’s a sound idea.

Find events specific to your country and join the global community for World Listening Day, here.

Sound expert Julian Treasure shares 5 ways to “re-tune” your ears for better listening, here.

“Being Hear,” by Emmy-winning acoustic ecologist Gordon Hempton, is a 10-minute treat for the senses, here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

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