One-Way Flights and Wedding Invites

How a wedding kicked off a 6-month journey across Asia (a poem)

Dear friends,

Welcome BACK to the Baer Necessities! I’m excited to finally dust the cobwebs off after over eight months away from this newsletter. Has it really been that long? There’s so much to update you on, and so little time. Sorry to those who have been very patiently waiting for the next edition (i.e. my mom and dad).

Today:

• a few thinly separated thoughts

• my first poem (!)

• some recommended reading

It’s a holiday weekend here in the U.S. And it feels good to be back in my hometown, Memphis, since returning from my 6-month journey backpacking and working remote throughout Asia.

I’m in a solid routine for the first time in a long time. As much as I like traveling, I might like my routines more: working and taking calls at regular hours (not 2am), lifting weights, running and biking on the beautiful trails here, playing Catan with friends, hanging with fam, not living out of a backpack, enjoying the best time of year in Memphis, and writing a lot. Each has their time and place, but it’s nice to sit a bit more still, for now.

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Last week, I decided, for the very first time, to walk to my usual cafe by my parent’s house.

I’ve been there countless times, but I’ve always driven. Mostly out of pure laziness and the fact that it’s an uninspiring, suburban walk. It’s only a mile away from their house, and the sun was shining after some heavy morning storms. So why not walk?

The walk was underwhelming (as expected). I walked through a couple high-traffic streets, built up a slight sweat in the May humidity, and I saw no one else. But it wasn’t all bad — I listened to a podcast, walked past some nice-smelling magnolia trees, and saw some daffodils pointing their yellow faces towards the sun. I even ran into an old friend at the cafe.

I learned during the pandemic, like many others, how much I love walking. Before, it was only a way to get from point A to point B. Maybe to walk the dogs. Walking was a means to an end. Now, the walk is more important than the destination.

The more you walk, the more your problems cease to feel like problems. You clear your mind, realize what it is you need to focus on, and this feeling of restlessness goes to the wayside for a time. It’s hard to have a bad day after a walk, and I typically get my best ideas this way. Ancient Romans understood this too well with a Latin phrase to explain the phenomenon — solvitur ambulando — or “it will be solved by walking.”

Walking is also the best elixir I know for writing.

~ ~ ~

The right words always seemed escape me.

For many months, in between writing content and working for my clients, I’ve been writing travel essays about my journeys, retelling the stories and lessons from the road. I’m trying to answer the questions that naw at me about long-term travel, nomadism, and how to live a good life. I certainly don’t have all the answers (or any), but I do have some stories, some rules I live by on the road, and even more questions. I have well over 20 drafts sitting across Google Docs, Apple Notes, and Substack drafts.

Yet, nothing published.

It’s too easy to keep pushing the can down the road. But I have a lot to say. Perhaps that’s a good thing. I know that hitting the publish button on this newsletter and leaving some breadcrumbs brings a certain amount of serendipity to my life.

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The other morning, sitting in the cafe sipping my espresso after that underwhelming walk, I decided to do something new for the first time in a long time with pen and paper in hand: I wrote a poem.

I started the poem in my journal just to shake my words loose. No plans to share it. Just trying a new form to make progress on the main thing (my essays). Maybe it was the walk or maybe the espresso, but the more I wrote, the more it felt like its own thing. It felt right. It felt true. Constraints breed creativity, and I think trying my hand at poetry, an inherently constrained medium, did just that. It’s crazy how so many ideas and themes you mull on for months come through in poetry in a way that’s different, more subtle, but just as powerful in a poem.

I was inspired by my brother-in-law Josh who just shared a heart-wrenching poem on Facebook about his father passing away recently (rest-in-peace, Bert), who himself was also a poet. Furthermore, I’ve been slowly reading poetry in Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman over the last year and essays from the poetic Emerson. Why not give poetry a shot?

So I figured what the heck! Let’s publish it. It’s (very) free-form and far from perfect. I really don’t know the first thing about rhyme schemes or how to structure poems. But that’s the point. The beginner’s mind, sometimes, has more possibilities than an expert’s mind.

So without further adieu (and with this long intro out of the way), here’s a poem on the start of my 6-month Asia journey… I hope you enjoy.

Quick housekeeping: it might be better read on a desktop (for spacing reasons) but comes out sounding all the same.

~ ~ ~

A Travel Poem:

One-Way Flights and Wedding Invites

The journey before me was unclear, undefined.
Only two things certain: a one-way flight and a wedding invite.
To celebrate two unlikely souls, better when combined. 
Not sure where life would take them next, just happy to be together and alive. 
My American friend getting hitched, who years before
walked the streets of Barcelona, Lisbon, and Italy with me many a late night,
and road-tripped through Spain, Andorra, and France, as free as birds in mid-flight.
Him joining forces in health and in sickness, for better and worse, 
with a Korean woman he met in Ecuador years before, now together, no uncertainty. 
Life is funny like that, never sure when you’ll meet 
the person that marches to the drum of your exact beat.

So I boarded my 14-hour flight to a place not (seemingly) quite as polite.
Not rude but just more quiet, reserved, private — 
Unlike the Western world, where no story is left untold.
But this metropolis begged me to listen despite, 
to its timely subways, pristine streets, and ancient temples, sites to behold.
And to its rich, yet troubled history that’s sometimes hidden in plain sight, 
And other times as obvious as visiting the chaos of the 38th parallel line.
And, of course, to eat its meat cooked in front of you with unlimited kimchi,
sometimes on your own and sometimes assisted by an auntie.

This was not my first vagabonding trip, but my first foray to the East, 
a part of this Earth I've always wanted to explore.
A journey now laid out before me, not a plan but many questions, 
an innate curiosity (and more).
Is it all destiny or are we all floating around like a feather accidentally on a breeze?
Where will my questions take me this time? And where will they cease?

Slowly but surely, I came to appreciate and love this country and its people,
where his friends and family from across the world quickly became mine too, equal.
We celebrated their love at the wedding and for weeks to come.
We walked the crowded flea markets and ate street food, like tteokbokki.
We hiked the mountains overlooking the sprawling city,
And we partied til the break of dawn, forgetting ourselves and any responsibility.
We road-tripped four hours to a small village, with massive temples, hanok homes, and winding roads, while the mid-October weather turned hot to cold. 
We dripped sweat in traditional saunas and even slept overnight in a 24/7 bathhouse.
(I know right? But it was only $15 and hotel prices ran the budget tight.)
My friend and I sleeping on a heated floor with hundreds of strangers, 
while his bed back home slept just one — his newly wedded spouse.
This country quickly teaching me that beauty (and privacy) knows no bound.

It wasn’t anything I could've expected, 
It was so much more.
A city of soul, not so easily detected.
It catapulted me into a six-month journey across Asia (originally supposed to be two, three, maybe four).
A journey I dreamt of for more than a decade, kicked off by a wedding.
I didn't know it yet, but the next six months would change me, 
a snake's skin shedding.
But it's the people I'll remember most from my first country, to name a few:
A passionate cafe owner, a long-lost Philly friend, a brief travel romance, a 50 year-old businessman, and a German guy who slept in a closet — a motley crew. 

Is it all destiny or are we all just floating around accidentally like a feather in a breeze?
"Maybe it's both," as Forrest said to Jenny's grave.
Remember, my friends: your first stop on a long trip always lingers with you,
and reverberates stories you will tell for years to come, like a constant wave.
Seoul and South Korea came first for me, fulfilling an obligation true.
And what came next, unplanned per usual, is a dream for some.
I would finally be leaving the first country with my friend after a whirlwind start.
Only two things certain: another one-way flight and a heavy heart. 

~ ~ ~

Shots from South Korea, September/October 2024

Proof of Travel

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Related Reading:

• Why We Travel by Pico Iyer (insanely good poetic essay on travel from 25 years ago, still relevant)

• 50 Years of Travel Tips by Kevin Kelly (some good lessons for the road)

• The Overstory - just one chapter from the book shared via Tim Ferriss - by Richard Powers (you’ll never look at trees the same)

• why the ‘safe path’ is not actually safe by Shaan Puri (he just puts out banger after banger, really fun writing style)

• Familiarity and Belonging by Simon Sarris (Simon is one of the best writers of our generation. Naturally poetic. Everything he writes is gold.)

• Things Become Other Thing: A Walking Memoir by Craig Mod (just started listening to the audiobook of this but I can already tell it’s going to be amazing… and on point for this newsletter. Complement this book with his recent podcast appearance on The Tim Ferriss Show, where I learned about this book.)

I have a ton of other things to add, but I don’t want to overwhelm. This should suffice for now.

~ ~ ~

Did I write what I was thinking when I first set out to write this? I have no idea. But it’s time to let this thing loose. Hopefully, I’ll get back to a regular cadence here and not wait another 8 months. We shall see.

That’s all for today, folks. I’d love to hear your travel stories. What’s an unexpected journey you’ve gone on? Let me know what you think, and feel free to like, comment, share, or write back to me here.

Stay curious and creative, my friends.

Until next time,

JB

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