Concepts: Distance

Occasionally,  I will want to shed light on a particular subject or thought, but I won’t have- or won’t want to have- a clear intent or defined stance on it. These will be more like thoughts to share. Maybe they can prove valuable and serve as writing prompts or talking points or   something to mull over. These entries I will head as “Concepts”. Enjoy!  

A few months back, I bought Borderlands 3. It is a lively action game full of looting and shooting and leveling up character skills and stats. Like many modern games, it also provides you a vast digital environment to explore.

Some of these landscapes were quite beautiful to me, and I would find myself pausing to enjoy them. I’d place my character at a good spot and scroll the camera around to study the scenery. In games like these, digitally painted landscapes contain marvelous sights: tiny houses atop craggy peaks looking out on ancient oceans of desert sand, monolithic city lights miles away, or rusted giant satellite dishes beside giant super highways. All of it in sight; so close , yet so far away…

Years ago, I spent a summer semester in Costa Rica. On one warm July afternoon, I found a nice seaside restaurant. I was in Manuel Antonio, near Quepos, and as I sat out on the deck, I could view the coast far down below me. Between me and the sea was a steep incline , a bumpy tree covered drop. A winding road, which led to the beach would, peak out here and there as well as a few roof tops. Then beach was like a sandy ribbon between the water and the green. It was a serene view.

I wondered as I looked on , how far away am I really from the beach? It looked so close. It would only take minutes if by some power I could hover down the hilly terrain over the trees and houses. In reality it would take longer . I would have to leave the current street I was on and  find the road down to the beach. Once I found it, I would have to take the time and effort to walk down the the road or ask someone to drive me down. Obstacles could still appear after that. It could be a gated community or I’d have to cut through heavy foliage or rocky areas to get to the spot that I saw high atop the hill at the restaurant.

At that moment, I remembered a unique sense came over me.

It was like a longing or a pining, an emotion not unlike the feeling you get when something is too high on the shelf, or going to the store and finding they just sold the last item you needed moments ago, or just missing the shot. 

I also remember that this feeling has hit me before, always in relation with  that same physical trouble that is distance. I have had it when I have seen mountains or cities coming into view on trips. I even have experienced it in video games I have played, where a new area of the map opens up to you and further up the road you see an enticing destination – a fortress, a lake, mountains, etc.  In each instance, a yearning builds because it  becomes apparent you can get there, perhaps just not yet (in games you can gleefully break reality a bit and find ways to cut the effort of travel in some form).

…As I prepare for travel once again, and look back at the times I have traveled, I think about distance. Has this emotional pull of seeing amazing far away places in sight garnered my interest in traveling?  My concepts of distance have changed too. It is harder to use the excuse of “its too far”. If I can see it, I know it must be able to be visited. Places on a map are no longer just dots and letters. Places- places far  away from me,  can be reached, its just  a matter of how and when. Distances can bridged. But I wonder if there will always linger that feeling…