The Quest Continues

This post is meant to play catch-up for our silence of the past two-and-a-half months. So much to tell, but I will sum it up in a tidy package as best I can.

“We are on a quest to explore the world inside and outside ourselves to learn to live more thoughtfully.”

Santillo Family Travel Credo

That’s what we wrote in April of 2019, upon driving away from Virginia to travel full time with our kids. However, you may have noticed that in late October of 2020, we fell off the edge of the earth. No worries! We just returned to Washington, DC, to reconnect with family, friends, and folks at work (as well as cast our vote in the election). It was meant to be a month-long break. That’s a funny word for time spent on return from a sabbatical. ‘Anchor’ is more like it.

We braced ourselves for the unpleasantness of returning to our old lives without being able to live them fully. It’s one thing to adapt to social distancing while traveling; the truth is, when you’re in a country where you don’t know anyone, it’s pretty easy to keep your distance. On the other hand, rekindling our USA friendships, reassuring our parents, and creating birthdays and holidays with a fear of infection wrapped around us instead of hugs―that was going to be tough.

Especially when so many of us need a shoulder upon which to cry.

Nevertheless, just like I’m sure you have, we found a way to connect. We went on long walks together, played soccer with masks on, picnicked at separate tables in winter weather, dusted off some old family games to play outside, screened an outdoor movie, and even savored Nonna’s famed holiday cookies on the far side of her porch. I know all of you have something similar to say. We found our ways. If nothing else, this year has been one for adaptation.

The pandemic has also provided a lesson in gauging and respecting other’s needs. When my brother and sister-in-law invited us to live with them for this time back in port, we had a few eggshell conversations to understand precisely their comfort levels and expectations. Chris was openly hesitant, but they assured us that spending time in an expanded bubble was just what they needed. We agreed on mooring for one month together, after which time the Santillo family would continue its quest to explore the world.

Honestly, though, despite a desire to see friends and family, part of me didn’t want to return. We’d always said that we would travel for about two years, maybe three, or however long it felt right to do so. Many of you have cheered our decision to keep the dream alive despite the audible screeching of the world grinding to a halt last spring. We were in Siem Reap, Cambodia, when borders started to close. The eerie silence that followed that whirlwind of panic is still palpable. Traveling no longer felt right as before. But without our own home to return to, what to do?

We considered looking for a place to settle again, even drove around the extended DC area and surrounds throughout a couple of weekends, but we were reluctant to choose whilst knowing that any place was not what it might be in the future. When one is encouraged to keep distance from others, how can one measure a given place’s friendliness? The cultural values? The tolerance of otherness?

Not ready to venture back out in the world, but also incapable of settling: a pickle. Our travel credo also says, “No matter how far we roam, we are never lost; this family is our home.” Those words often brought us courage while in the corners of the earth farthest from all we knew as home.

Ironically, once back in that old home, I felt totally lost.

I can tell you the moment exactly when all fears lifted, the ground appeared beneath my feet, and I knew we were right where we were supposed to be. I was watching the sunset with Leigh, the sister I always wanted, and she asked me, “What if we think of this time as a gift?”

Crazy, right? How could anything in 2020 be considered a gift? But what if, instead of fighting to maintain a course that we started nearly two years ago, we accepted the unexpected eddy in which we found ourselves and lived in it fully. Circling around and around each other in one house, one boat, but singing, laughing, creating, and enjoying ourselves―that sounded pretty good. A time like this may never, ever come again. The truth of it was striking.

I needed to recognize the immense value of what was being offered.

“We are on a quest to explore the world inside and outside ourselves to learn to live more thoughtfully.”

Santillo Family Travel Credo

From there, the room to explore the world inside ourselves opened up. Ah, the freedom one feels once a choice is made! Our one month turned to two, and we built more memories with Uncle Kevin and Aunt Leigh in those two months than we had made while living together in the same city for a decade. To my wonderful, beloved brother and sister-in-law, thank you. It was an unforgettable, life-changing gift.

I hope you, too, dear reader and friend, have found a way to embrace your reality, even if you cannot embrace your neighbor.

Now, I’m writing this message while staring at the Caribbean Sea. “Resilient and present-focused, we will persevere despite our fears.” To learn more about the ripple that sent our boat adrift again and where the Santillo family decided to pick up the quest anew, stay tuned…