What is the longest journey I have ever been on?

You are going to have to define journey.

If You Mean Miles, I Have Stories

I once made a roughly seventeen-hour run from Kansas to Idaho with a partner. He drove, I drove, he drove, I drove. Neither one of us slept. We just kept trading the wheel and moving west.

I have also moved from Kansas to Michigan in a twenty-six-foot U-Haul pulling my car, following a 3500 pickup pulling a fifth wheel, with three dogs and a cat folded into the whole operation.

And now I am about to do it again in a different direction.

I am leaving Michigan and heading west with another twenty-six-foot U-Haul, my car behind it, a truck with a cab-over camper in the mix, everything going into storage, and then a stretch of living much closer to the land while our house is being built.

That is a journey.

But It Is Probably Not the Longest One

If you mean duration, my wellness journey wins.

That one has been running for years.

It has taken me through illness, rebuilding, experimentation, mistakes, changed beliefs, changed routines, things that helped, things that did not, things I once believed too strongly, and things I once dismissed too quickly.

And it is not over yet.

Maybe That Is Why the Question Is More Interesting Than It Looks

Miles are easy.

You can put them on a map.

You can tell me how many states you crossed, how many hours you drove, how many times you stopped for fuel, and how many animals were deeply unimpressed with your travel plans.

But some journeys change the person doing the traveling.

Those are harder to measure.

A wellness journey can move you without changing your address. A relationship can take you somewhere you never intended to go. A career can move through several identities before you recognize what the common thread was. A move across the country can be about much more than geography.

So Which One Is the Longest?

If we are counting miles, I can probably calculate it.

If we are counting years, I have an answer.

If we are counting how far I have had to travel from one version of myself to another, I am not sure I have reached the destination yet.

And I am okay with that.

I am beginning to think the longest journeys are the ones that keep changing what you mean by “there.”

Ask me again when the house is built. I have a feeling the answer will have changed.

Your turn: What journey are you measuring right now—and are miles, years, or how much you have changed actually the right measure?