Home Shock

I recently returned to my hometown after being away for over a year.

As my plane flew over my great salty lake and soured parallel to those ‘oh so familiar’ mountains, my heart began to beat faster. The excitement I experienced upon touching down at the airport easily rivaled the excitement I got from first leaving 14 months ago.

The plane needed to dock faster because I was about to surprise my friends and family and the exhilarating part was that no one knew I was even coming. I missed my friends, their familiar faces had frequented my dreams as I anticipated seeing them again. I had been planning this surprise arrival for months and what made me nervous was that they were going to experience the new travel me.

When it comes to travel, what we don’t often hear about is home shock. Often, most things remain the same back at home, yet us travelers have quite literally seen the world and travel has a way of speeding up the inevitable. Long exposure to change, differences, and experiences tend to alter a person, and the realization of the contrast can cause a bit of an identity tremor.

Accompanied with the excitement of seeing friends I hadn’t seen in a while, was a slight concern of my expected behavior. How much had I changed? Was it enough to shock the people who knew me? One thing I’ve noticed about human behavior is that folks tend not to like change. We appreciate when our friends and surroundings are familiar, and the dislike of alterations have spawned negative associations to the statement, “she’s changed.”

I’ve noticed something about the emotion of nervousness; it’s that it’s identical to the feeling of excitement only with different thoughts behind it. So I decided to sit comfortably, or as comfortably as I could, in my new skin. If I changed then I changed, and my friends and family would have to be happy for it.

I quickly found that the acceptance of my friends and family was the last thing to get nervous about, after all, I was still me and they love me. However, home shock came from an existential realization of change. We all eventually reminisce of days past and who we used to be; it’s the consequence of time.

Twenty years from now I’ll be a different person, and twenty years from then I’ll be another different person; and forty years from now you will be a different person too. This is because change always affects us, and change is inevitable. While driving along my old streets I realized that even my city will dramatically alter in another 50 years or less.

Culture shock affects us because it forces us to look at life and ourselves in another light. Home shock affects us because it forces us to look at our past, future, and present in another light. That new perspective on things lit up the realization that living in the moment is the only way to truly live.

A Questioning Mind

I teach English in Japan, and one of my advanced students often has questions that give me a delighted shock. The thing is, his questions are so simple that I’m always surprised as to why I’ve never asked them or thought about them myself.

Why do they say “sweating like a pig” and not another animal?

How can you be thrilled to bits? Does that mean you are literally falling apart?

He’s a university professor, which might explain his questioning mind. All the same, last night he had yet another silly yet brilliant question.

We were reading an article about racism in Australia and he wanted to know what ‘Down Under’ meant. I explained that Australia was referred to as ‘Down Under’ because of its position on a globe or map of the world. He nodded to show his understanding and then I saw his brow furrow; I knew another question was coming.

“Does it include New Zealand?” he asked. “

No,” I replied and then thought, why DOESN’T it include New Zealand? “That’s a really good point,” I said, “And a really good question because New Zealand is even further south than Australia!” We paused for a moment to think when suddenly he inspired me to have a like-minded moment of wonder.

“Maybe New Zealand should be called, Really Down Under.” I suggested.

In the English language we have many idioms that to us, are just what we say. It’s not often we stop and think about the actual words and it’s rare when we question the origins of a saying. That’s one of the best things about teaching English as a second language: you learn so much about your own language.

Already this year I’ve discovered the origins of a number of idioms, including ‘in seventh heaven’ and ‘on cloud nine’. The first refers not to Christianity, but too much earlier in history when the Sumerian civilization was flourishing. According to their beliefs there were seven heavens and to reach the seventh was to be closest to God. ‘On cloud nine’ is a phrase that is believed to have come from meteorologists who often refer to nine types of clouds in terms of altitude. A cloud with the number nine is the highest in altitude and hence, a person who is on cloud nine is literally on top of the world.

I’m so thankful I have students with questioning minds, for without them, I would probably never discover so many things myself. They say a teacher is there to teach and that the teacher is the one with the knowledge. I think that teachers and students are both learning and teaching; from each other, from the world, about each other and also about ourselves. Never stop learning, for each time we learn something new, we grow just a little bit more.

Judgements From a Pocket Monkey

There is a monkey on my sweater with a stern look on his face. I can see him looking at me through my bedroom mirror. I bought the sweater from a thrift shop because I thought a front pocket was a fun spot to place a stern looking monkey. Surrounded by shitty half finished paintings, I’m questioning my purchase while I’m drinking horrible tasting wine and smoking far too much weed. Is the monkey judging me? Where am I? What am I doing? I’m momentarily obsessed with questions like these, yet I love when I feel the need to ask them.

I’ve been traveling the world alone and I’m currently in Australia, working in cafes and living in a shed for a few months while I work on my paintings.   Considering my situation, I’ve had a couple of people ask me if I’ve found myself yet. I suppose it’s a cliche’ for people to travel while in search of themselves, so I can’t blame them for asking. But I can’t help but wonder, where is the finding when the found is always with you? What excites me is the thought that we’re always finding ourselves.

Whether stationary or not, travel is a metaphor for life. Confronting the world forces you to confront the different aspects of yourself in relation to the different aspects of the world. Because the world is full of changes, so are we. Since I was a teenager my goal in life has been to create myself through experience. What new things can I explore? What new sensations may I feel? I have inadvertently “found myself” while traveling, but that’s only because I’ll find myself everywhere I am.

Zazz and sweater-Pocket Monkey in her art shed.

This doesn’t mean I don’t get scared. In all actually, I’m often fairly terrified. What am I doing with my life? Why have I anthropomorphized a pocket monkey? Where will this all take me? I’ve recently bought an expensive professional camera with the goal in mind of creating a traveling podcast. I know nothing about cameras, filming, or editing. The other day I was playing around by recording random things, when the reality of what I’m trying to do freaked me out. Talking alone into the camera is actually pretty damn hard, it can make you feel vulnerable and a bit crazy. Especially when you find yourself doing it with little friend support in some crummy and cold shed in the backyard of a crummier house in Melbourne. Are my goals a joke? Even if I pull this off, who will watch it?

I travel in order to explore and open myself up to possibilities, but I also originally took off in hopes of finding an opportunity that I can commit to. I often feel constantly torn in the directions I want to take in life. Some days I just want someone to simply tell me what to do. Yet if there is anything else I hate more in this world, it’s someone telling me what to do. I’m a walking contradiction in that way. I think my desire for instruction is derived from a fear of responsibility. If someone else is dictating my life, I can blame them for my disappointments; but I can’t live that way because I know it’s a lie. I’m responsible for my own life, I have no one else to blame if I fail.

This realization of responsibility has been an enormous thing to take in. I’ve always thought of responsibility as this thing associated with a career, children, or doing the dishes; but it’s more than even that. We are responsible for our entire lives. Not just our current, living, and breathing in this moment lives, we’re responsible for everything leading up to our inevitable deaths. What’s worse, failing or never doing? The answer is never doing. Because if we fail when we reach the end of our lives, we’re failing anyway; but we’re failing without having even tried.

I ended up in Melbourne after a series of bizarre and fantastic events and my mind is still reeling with the freedom I currently possess. The pocket monkey might be looking at me disappointingly, but I love my situation. I’m living a dream of mine since childhood and I’m free to explore the world and myself as I please. This is a good thing. The more things I explore, the more things I try, the more I learn about myself; my true self, not the self filled with “shoulds” and “can’ts.” And whatever I end up doing or abandoning, at least I’ve learned something. At least I’ve DONE something, instead of sitting on my ass complaining about life and wasting it. Judge that pocket monkey.

Are We Grown Ups Yet?

Growing up involves developing mental processes to navigate, avoid, and resolve conflict and bumps in the road of life. It’s not just about learning to do taxes or buying your own home; growing up is learning to take responsibility, learning to listen to others, and taking appropriate action. At first glance words such as “responsibility” and “appropriate” can ignite a negative taste on the mouth. But growing up also involves the cognitive understanding that taking the “high road” is far less drama and has a better view.

In my experience I’ve come to find that 98% of potential arguments are simply verbal and emotional misunderstandings. Words only go so far to communicate our feelings and desires, and when strong feelings are involved, it’s easy to get caught up and consumed by our emotions. The thing with overwhelming emotions is that they demand our attention. When all of our attention is on one or two powerful feelings, it can seem impossible to see anything else, which creates a lot of room for misunderstandings. While blinded by hate or sadness we miss the words being said, and often more importantly, we miss the intended meaning of the words being said. In arguments we get tunnel vision when we should be looking at the landscape.

Learning to approach conflict from a lookout point instead of a tunnel is the epitome of maturity. It’s not an easy thing to ignore strong emotions in an attempt to see the full view. It can be exceptionally hard because it forces you to confront your own potential faults and misunderstandings. The upside to leaving the tunnel is that views are often colorful and beautiful, and avoiding or working out a conflict is the best kind of relief.

State of Limbo

Why do people travel? It’s an easy enough question to answer. For new experiences, to expand their horizons, to meet new people. But what about the expat question: Why do people choose to live in a foreign country? Of course I can’t answer for everybody, but after speaking to a number of friends it seems there may be common threads which bind all expats together.

Escape is often a big factor. Whether that means escaping the everyday mundane life of their hometown or getting away from something or someone, many expats long for a fresh start in a new country.

Then there’s the opportunity factor. I was speaking to a long-term expat friend the other night who said there is nothing in his home country for him apart from family. He then went on to explain that here in Japan he is special. Here he can be someone and do things he doesn’t believe would be possible in his country of birth.

I understand what he means. People are amused by our normal, but very foreign behavior and the things we do that would ordinarily be insignificant in our home country are highly praised. This includes things like singing in a band or writing a blog. Of course, attempts to master chopsticks or to speak a few words of Japanese are seen as evidence that we are attempting to make this our ‘home’ and so we are praised even further. Then of course there is the fact that we are sometimes given opportunities simply because we are foreigners. Case in point: my Native English friend who became an acting sensation overnight just for being himself. On the flip-side though, many expats comment on the fact that sometimes they feel more like something in a zoo or a performing circus animal than a person.

All this talk got me wondering about my own situation. Apart from my mum and my cats, I have no desire to return to Australia. I once told her I never really felt I belonged there. I felt like a fish out of water. When I was living there all I wanted to do was be somewhere else. Somewhere in Asia specifically, because that’s where my heart has always been. The other day I was asked when I was coming back to Australia and the person didn’t specify whether they meant for a holiday or to live. Either way I told them I had no plans at all to do anything of the sort. To me, it seems that they think this is just another holiday, albeit an extended one but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Here I am making my own life, living on my own two feet and immersing myself in a culture I deeply admire and respect.

A close Japanese friend of mine asked me last week if I saw Japan as a sort of dream, just a place to fill-in time while I waited for something ‘better’ to come along. As someone who works in a café, she meets lots of foreigners, mostly tourists who are there only temporarily, but she had to wonder for those who live here; do we really consider Japan ‘home?’ I looked at her and said that for the first time in my life I feel I belong. I feel as though despite all my excuses for not wanting to come back earlier (I was first here nine years ago), I have accepted that this is where I should be. It has taken many years, but it finally happened and it was worth the wait.

I suppose as expats we exist in a state of limbo, so to speak. We don’t belong or don’t identify with our home country, yet we will never really be fully accepted and integrated into our new and chosen society either. We always exist just on the edge. This isn’t the fault of anyone or anything; it’s just the way it is Even if we learn to speak the language, we weren’t born here, we can never fully understand what it means to be a native. Despite this, we thrive and forge our own lives, our own communities and we survive. Living in a foreign country can be a daily challenge, yet most expats would agree that the rewards far outweigh the hardships and perhaps this is why we choose to do it.

Nostalgic Revolution

The other night I had a class with one of my advanced adult students. He works as a smart phone app game designer in downtown Hiroshima and loves anything old-school or related to his childhood. I had been looking for an interesting article we could discuss during the lesson and so it was that I stumbled on one from the Wall Street Journal. It was about Lego and the adults who have quit their high-paying jobs to build models for the company. Rest assured though, that they now get paid more for one piece than they would have made at their previous job in a quarter of the year!

After reading the article we started talking about the toys we had played with when we were growing up. The more we talked, the more memories of long-forgotten toys came flooding back. I wasn’t even sure if half of these toys still existed.

We lamented the fact that with so much new technology, kids were more likely to play with a smart phone or an iPad than they were with a physical toy. Toys like Grip-ball or mini or putt putt golf were clearly outside pursuits and we both felt half the kids today barely saw the outside world because they were so focused on the computer screen in front of them. It was sad, we both agreed.

I explained about the spirograph and showed him the wonderful patterns that such a simple tool could make. We sighed about kalidoscopes and the beautiful colours that seemed to magically appear with each twist of the top. Then we moved onto card collecting and the different types of ones that had been popular at some time or another. I suddenly remembered my friends Luke and Shane being obsessed with Garbage Gang cards and how they had spent lunchtimes swapping ones they had in double or sometimes triplicate. And who could forget ant farms? I remembered preparing sand and soil for the narrow plastic containers and then scrambling on the ground trying to catch the poor creatures to fill the ‘city’ I had made for them.

Ah yes and of course, there was the Tamagochi. I was now living in the birthplace of this toy and we both wondered if somewhere in Japan they still existed. Perhaps now they were available as an app instead. I told him how I had tried to ‘feed’ mine during class at school for fear that it would starve to death and I would have to start all over again. I’d been immensely proud when my kitten grew to full size and was approaching the grand old age of 30 when my friend thought it would be funny to kill it by not cleaning up its poop. I was so angry with her that I didn’t talk to her for days. I also cried, but only in the privacy of my own room. How had I become so attached to something that wasn’t even real?!

We finished the lesson with faraway looks in our eyes and dreamy-smiles on our faces. It didn’t matter whether or not these toys still exist or not, they were preserved in our memories and no one could ever take them away from us.

I long for children today to have the chance to play with toys like this, to extract the same simple pleasure that I did. Yes, the technological age that we live in has created some amazing toys: physical, virtual or digital, but I can’t help thinking that these are simply objects, devoid of any type of soul. Do children today feel the same connectedness with their toys that my generation did with ours? Or are they easily abandoned, discarded like rubbish when something new and more advanced comes along? Maybe it’s time to introduce the generation of tomorrow to the childhood toys of generations past. Who knows…perhaps we’ll start a nostalgic revolution.

Off the Paved Path in Thailand

Many people travel for vacation, going to the popular bars and attractions and participating in set tours. Some of us travel as a way of life; a way to experience new cultures, vistas, and flavors. If this is you, you might be disappointed in finding how commercialized and touristy Thailand can be.

Don’t fret! There are always places to explore.

If you’re not interested in seeing heaps of youngsters wearing neon “same same, but different” shirts, book yourself a local bus or train ticket and venture to these five unconventional tourist spots in Thailand. They’re like the rest of Thailand, but different.

Isaan Country

Discover Thailand’s agricultural roots. Less developed and away from beaches, you’ll find little to no other tourists in this region of Thailand depending on where you go. Expect to find spicy food and to hear the Isan language, which is a dialect of Lao.

Norther Isaan

Must Do

Visit the statues of Sala Kaew Ku,in Nong Khai.
See Fireballs shoot out of the Mekong River during Buddhist Lent.
Drink kaw nam lac, a local spirit made of rum, orange juice, and ground peppers.

buddhaPhoto — Zazz in front of Buddha statue in Sala Kaew Ku, Thailand

Southern Isaan

Warning: In the recent past the border area of Si Saket provenance has been dangerous due to an ongoing border dispute between Thailand and Cambodia. Research before you visit.

Must Do

Phanom Rung and Phimai Historical Parks are like Angkor Wat without the crowds.
A temple made of beer bottles? Yes. Marvel at it in Si Sa Ket.
Khao Yai National Park, Thailand’s first national park for a reason.

beerbottlePhoto — Wat Lan Khaud, meaning, Temple Of A Million Bottles. Photo by Chris Mitchell

Khlong Lan National Park

Khloong Lan a village in Kamphaeng Phet provenance in the west of Thailand. Khlong Lan is mostly inhabited by the Karen People, and being near Myanmar, has a bit of a Burmese influence. You’ll see some of the men and boys wearing longyi, which are sarong-like clothing worn by men.

Must Do

Take the local bus in from Tak. By bus I mean a truck with benches in the back. This is where you meet locals and experience actual traveling, and not just touring. Resilience alert: The road is long and curvy. If you’re a bit of a wimp, or have a serious reason like neck or spinal injuries, take the cushy tour-bus.
Try green tomato salad. It’s a Burmese specialty but is possible to find here. Also comes in an avocado version, one of my favorite foods in the world.
Khlong Lan waterfall. Speaks for itself.

waterfall1 — Khlong Lan waterfall, Thailand.

Mae Hong Son Provenance

A home to the Karen people and the Thai Yai. Occupied with misty mountains, historically, the area has been used for elephant training. Avoid the town, Nai Soi, which is set up like a human zoo.

Must Do

Namtok Mae Surin National Park and Mae Surin Waterfall.
Pai. A lovely touristy town, worth it if you enjoy hanging out with hippies.
Hitchhike. Yeah seriously. It’s the best way to meet locals, see places you otherwise wouldn’t, and the police and army will actually help you find rides. Be Safe, use common sense and don’t hitchhike alone if you’re a woman.

busride2 — Hitchhiking adventure with beautiful Thai families.

Nervous about venturing off of tourist paths? Check out our Travel Tips for inspiration.

My year of self (re)discovery

Just when you think you can’t learn anything else about yourself that you don’t already know, BAM! Something happens that challenges you, changes you and shocks you to your core.

Sometimes it happens that you discover it yourself, but more often than not, someone else sees it and points it out for you. These kinds of friends are important as they challenge you to grow and to see that you do change through life. What you never saw before is suddenly apparent and sometimes the actions you’ve put in place to survive a certain time in your life are still being clung to, long after the situation has passed. In other words, the walls we erected to keep ourselves safe, now serve as a cell.

At the age of 31 I thought I knew everything about myself that I was going to learn, but learning is a lifelong process and so is finding out about who you are as a person.

Sometimes it takes a very special set of circumstances to make you realize that you’ve been missing out on life. Maybe you’ve stopped doing something you enjoy simply because you read an article about the apparent health risks that may be a part of it. Perhaps you’ve been channeling your energy into something or someone who is not worthy of the effort or you’ve stopped allowing yourself to love another simply because you’ve been hurt in the past. Whatever the case, these decisions often mean that you aren’t really ‘living’ you’re simply existing in the world.

Last night I did something I haven’t done in a long time; a very long time in fact. Last night I had my first drink in over 13 years. Why did I stop in the first place? What made me decide to finally break the pattern last night? The answer is a very special set of circumstances and of course, the essence of everything in life: timing.

I’d had a bad day, I needed to get some things off my chest and a friend suggested I come over to his place for a drink. I accepted. I told myself, “Jade, it’s time. You need to deal with this and you need to do it now.”

As I pulled the lid on the can and heard it gasp with a satisfying “ah”, I settled back on my friend’s couch and let loose with all my troubles. In between talking I sipped my drink and it was when I was about halfway through the can that I suddenly thought, what’s wrong with my muscles? They feel so relaxed. Ah yes, the wonderful effects of alcohol and how it just relaxes the senses; numbs the senses in some cases. Then again, was it the alcohol, or was it my subconscious that was aware I had let go of things that no longer served me? Perhaps I will never know. In any case, muscles that had been bunched in knots for over three years suddenly loosened and I wondered why I hadn’t done this earlier. I knew the answer to that, that much I did know about myself.

“I used to be fun,” I said to my friend.

He looked at me and said, “Yeah, you used to be.” “

What?!” I retorted. “You don’t think I’m fun?!” I screwed my eyes up at him and looked at him critically.

“I didn’t say that, I’m just saying what you said; ‘used’ as in past tense. Don’t put words into my mouth.”

I considered what I’d just said and even in my alcohol-muddled mind the realization hit me. This was my BAM! moment.

At a time in my life many years ago when I was a student at university, I’d stopped ‘living.’ I felt that many parts of my life were spiraling out of control due to external factors and the only way I could rectify that was by focusing on things that I was directly responsible for. Looking back now and talking or writing about it I can see how ridiculous it was, but at the time it made perfect sense, at least in my mind.

It began with giving up certain items of food and of course, alcohol. Alcohol gave me the ability to be free of all inhibitions and that often meant I was more honest with both others and myself than I would normally be. I figured if I stopped drinking I would have more control of my feelings and wouldn’t have to face them if I didn’t want to. I deprived myself of everything enjoyable because I knew that they could be taken from me at any time. I figured that if I didn’t have them in the first place I wouldn’t be losing anything.

I erected barriers around myself, walls so high and so thick they could not be penetrated. I distanced myself from anyone that tried to love me because I didn’t want to get hurt like in the past.

There was no joy in the world or in living. In fact it wasn’t living. I was starving myself, both literally and figuratively: for food, for love, for pleasure, for enjoyment. To live a life like that is exhausting.

The truth is that life is a risk. In living we extend ourselves, we face our fears and realize they were never really controlling us in the first place. We are only controlled by ourselves unless we give our power to others. It is up to ourselves to allow or not allow ourselves to feel or experience certain emotions in times of hurt or risk.

I wanted to start living again, in every possible way. I wanted to grab life with both hands and be the person I always was, the one who was locked away from the world, afraid to lose control if I let myself feel anything.

So I had a drink and I realized that I was in control, or at least, as much as anyone can be in life. At the age of 31 I finally understand that trying to control everything in life is not only pointless, it’s impossible. Life is to be lived and not to be bound by our own restrictions or by others we allow to restrict us. Life’s just too short for that.

Sit Down with Cliches

Have you ever repeated a word over and over again only to find that at such a fast pace that particular word loses it’s meaning and simply becomes a strange sound? If not, here’s a fun game to try. Pick a word, any word, and repeat it until you’re blue in the face. Go on, this is a safe space and I am giving you full permission to live in the moment.

A silly game designed to shed some light on the human brain shows us that repetition dulls awareness. Let’s take the word “love” for example and repeat it until it sounds like an alien spacecraft hovering five inches above the ground. One of the most powerful emotions and expressions in our human experience, love, becomes reduced to an obnoxious and meaningless noise. This constant repetition, sending us clear into oblivion, is the problem with cliches. They are wise words that are so overly repeated that they often lose their meaning and pizazz.

Follow your dreams.
Money doesn’t buy happiness.
Live and let live.
Be yourself.  Forgive and forget
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Laughter is the best medicine.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Zazz on a ledge on Hua Shan (mountain) in Shaanxi, China.

It has even become a cliche to hear these sayings and, “take them to heart.”

Fisherman showing off in Inle Lake, Myanmar.

We love cliches because they are so often true, but inspiration is fleeting without application. I challenge you to break the spell of the meaningless word sounds, go beyond taking it to heart and take these words to action. After all, “actions do speak louder than words”.

How can we reverse what appears to be obnoxious noise, thus transforming this cloudy clatter into meaningful application? It’s not the repetition alone that dulls cliches, it’s the speed at which we consume them. We read and see Pinterest and Instagram photos with interesting backgrounds and Insta-inspirational quotations posted online; sometimes we share them, or give them a “like” all in order to get our enlightenment fixes for the day. However, these words seem to insta-come and go, in one ear and out the other, as we continue about our day with little internalization of what these words actually mean. Let’s make a collective goal to stop treating our words like fast-food. It’s time to pause, taste, and enjoy our meal.

“Old habits really do die hard” but they can die eventually. Take advantage of the simple insta-reminders throughout your day to help clear the meaningless noise by reflecting. The next time you find yourself reading a beautiful quote on your timeline or newsfeed, remember to sit down with the cliche as if it were a decadent cup of coffee. Taste it, smell it, and let it give you energy to take action. It’s natural to be swept away into the fast-past hustle of life and social media, so don’t get yourself down when you do because there is yet another cliche that just so happens to be true: “The more you try, the more likely you are to succeed.”

Zazz showing off her goods on the Great Wall of China.

Quality Over Quantity

A fellow traveling friend recently asked me how my experiences visiting new towns and cities have changed since I first set off on the road nine months ago. Does the excitement of seeing a new place still compel me to, “go, go, go” and explore every crevice, monument, and tourist sight possible? Or do I take it slow, spending a day or two in my guesthouse or hotel relaxing?

It didn’t take me long to answer his question. I have thought about this many times before and I have found that the longer I’ve been on my travels the less of a tourist I’ve become. I’ve found myself spending hours, sometimes days, indoors, on the porch, or in a restaurant reading, writing, painting and skipping popular tourist destinations altogether.

This is a topic I have talked about with other travelers before, and it seems to be on many nomads’ minds. What’s more important, quality or quantity? Should we feel guilty for not exploring everything we can of a new place? We travel in order to see, explore, and experience new things after all, shouldn’t I get off of my computer and do exactly that?

What I love most about travel is that it is a reflection of our journey through life itself. While caught up in the mundane tasks of everyday modern living, we often forget to see the whole picture of where we are. Our lives are relatively short on this earth and we shouldn’t take our days and hours for granted.

Living and being completely in a moment is exactly how we avoid wasting our lives away. If the hectic worries of catching a bus at noon or seeing x number of sites before evening is getting in the way of actually being wholly in a moment, then we should take a step back for a second and let go. If we’re burying our nose in maps and guide books and treating a place like Disneyland, then perhaps we’re missing the point of travel. We’ve got to take time to breathe, look around us, and reflect on the moment. If we’re too preoccupied on sticking to a schedule and our minds are filled with fears of missing out, we often are missing out.

The mirror of travel has shown me that, just like in life, I can’t do and see everything; it’s not humanly possible. But it has also shown me that life and experience is all there for the taking; I simply have to learn to close my laptop sometimes and walk out the door. As the hectic rush and worry of, “go, go, go” can take away from living in the moment, hiding away in a rented room for days can do the same.   There is no Lonely Planet book to answer my friend’s questions on when it’s right to sit, and when it’s right to go. The pace we choose to travel and live our lives is a personal thing which can change from day-to-day. The important thing to remember is that quality, not just quantity, is most rewarding.