I love to travel. I love to be free. I love the feeling of the wind in my face, fresh air in my lungs, the taste of sweat on my lips, and the sunshine on my skin. I love falling hard into new situations I could have never predicted. I love the feeling of everything being new--so foreign that every part of my body tingles with joy and terror because every little experience is a new adventure and a new challenge. I love to feel my heart race; I love new smells, new sights, and new sounds. But perhaps what I love most of all is how uncomfortable I am, but how perfectly okay I am with it.
Travel is perhaps the most selfish and selfless thing one can do--selfish because you seek your own individual enjoyment and fulfillment, but selfless because you are completely and utterly putting yourself out there for the world to see, judge, and (maybe) embrace.
But with great love comes great torment. Because now I am addicted. And I always want more. Lack of adventure leaves me frustrated: frustrated with routine and familiarity. My "normal" life at home feels so safe, so boring, so confined. I can no longer enjoy digging my feet into the dirty sand of Maryland beaches, or looking up and seeing only three stars in the city sky, or feeling like I can't connect with old friends the way I used to.
I've realized there's more to life than a perfect tan, an adorable dress, or a great job. Life can be more than your hometown, your social circle, or your comfort zone. I don't care anymore about having matching clothes or wearing just the right amount of make-up. I don't care if my friends hair is sandy or if there aren't enough chairs to go around.
Because I'm tired of talking about nothing.
We spend too much of our lives spinning small talk, trying (but never succeeding) to understand another person beyond the color of their shoes or what they had for breakfast this morning. We spend too much time trying to homogenize the world and fit people into pretty little check-boxes.
What would happen if we stopped trying to typecast each other? What would happen if we embraced the power of diversity in all matters of the word?
Travel has forced me to come face-to-face with my stereotypes and seen them completely blown out of the water. I've learned that our world is too amazingly different to slice up into categories on a demographics survey.
And I've learned that the willingness to talk about something is the first step to understanding.Labels: personal, travel