Sacred moments when you travel

Do you seek out sacred moments when you travel? Or do you simply open yourself up so as to allow them to occur serendipitously? And when they do surprise you, do you recognize them as being special and savour the moment? Or do you only appreciate them later on? To me, a sacred moment is one that is so inspiring that it stirs the heart and soul. A sacred moment might occur when you meet someone special, someone with an uplifting story to tell. Or simply when you spend quality time in a special place with someone you love. It might be an experience that is so emotionally moving, that it's transformational, even, dare I say it, transcendental? But then again something very simple can be sublime - the way light falls in a particular way, the exquisiteness of a just-opened flower, or the clear cobalt sky that starts your day. I would count visits to shanty towns in Rio and Lima, a bushwalk in Australia with an indigenous guide, travelling through a stunning landscape with husband Terry, and experiencing Uluru at sunset, as among my sacred moments. Life coaches and self-help books advise us to collect our sacred moments - by photographing them, writing about them, or simply storing them in our memory - and retrieving them when we need to remind ourselves of what's important in life, what we value. One of the things I most love about travelling are the opportunities that are presented for experiencing sacred moments. There's something about travelling that opens the mind and prepares your soul for recognizing and receiving special moments and saving them for that day you know you're going to need them. So, when was the last time you experienced a sacred moment?

Anzac Day, sacred moments, and the revival of Australian nationalism

It's the Anzac Day long weekend here in Australia, and as an Australian who has lived overseas since 1998, I'm finding the experience an odd one. While I appreciate the tragedy that was The Battle of Gallipoli and the pointless loss of lives, particularly those of the ANZACs (the Australian and New Zealand Army Corp) who were sent to slaughter, I feel completely disconnected from the sentiment that an increasing number of Australians, especially young Aussies, are feeling. According to media reports this weekend, there was a Big turnout for Anzac Day marches (ABC) and Thousands of young Aussies pay homage at Gallipoli (Brisbane Times). In Aussies keep the faith on Anzac Day, Sydney Morning Herald reporter Doug Conway writes: "A navy chaplain called it "a sacred moment" - dawn on April 25, when a nation remembers the 1.8 million Australians who have gone off to war and the 102,000 who never came back. On the 94th such sacred moment, Australians showed that as the ranks of veterans dwindles, so the numbers of those honouring them swells. In cities and towns around Australia, at Gallipoli and on the western front, in NZ, PNG, Britain and the US, tens of thousands were urged to keep faith with the Anzac spirit." While I'm open to experiencing "sacred moments", this one passed me by. I spent the day at my desk writing, feeling little duty or desire to attend an Anzac service or parade. I'm not even sure what it means to "keep faith" with the Anzac spirit, nor what that 'spirit' is, because the 'national character' it was meant to capture has eluded us on our recent travels here. I'm not so sure that it exists anymore - if it ever existed at all. Perhaps it's because I've lived 'away' for so long and travelled so much that I feel (as pretentious as this might sound) more a citizen of the globe than of one particular nation. And I like it that way. I like being 'globalized', feeling 'international' in spirit. I know what that means. But I don't understand nor do I like the spirit of nationalism that seems to have swept Australia, the ugliest 'ism' of all. It's one that in Australia I associate with the Cronulla riots and many Australians' unquestioning support of John Howard, George Bush and the Iraq War. So while I appreciate the need in human beings for "sacred moments" and I understand how Anzac Day tourism has developed, in the way that any form of dark tourism or grief tourism develops - although to be honest I'm not even sure that's what's happening when Aussie backpackers visit Gallipoli - I am deeply uncomfortable with the revival in nationalism among young Australians.