IF I told you that I travel to widen my horizons, meet new people, learn about different cultures and become a less self-centered person, I would be lying.
How does one inspire others? I asked myself long and hard as I began to pen this post. I sketched a big flowchart of how I think the process of inspiration works. Then I chuckled and remembered I wasn’t at work and this wasn’t a technical specification. This is my first post in the inspiration category so I felt that I needed to write something extremely positive and inspirational. Then I realized that I can’t inspire without being real. So I wrote from my heart.
I’m not a traveler looking to gain perspective about the challenges and learn to appreciate the comforts of their life. I grew up in a third world country and witnessed enough poverty around me, that I will always remember the way it made my heart ache. I know what it feels like to never feel quite safe enough. I know enough languages to not feel like I need to travel for the sake of learning another one. I’m not trying to find myself because I’m not lost.
I’m not saying I know everything or that I am better than everyone else in the world. I think there is a general image of travelers and an attempt to categorize them. Take a minute to google “why do people travel” and you’ll know what I mean. I don’t relate to any of those. For me, wandering is a distraction from the bad and ugly. It’s an escape. For me, traveling has a very clearly defined purpose.
For me, it is a way to run away just far enough, long enough and frequently enough that I can continue being adventurous without falling into the “irresponsible adult” category.
It’s my way of feeling free. It’s to come to the surface for a long breath of fresh air before I have to go back down… deep down and wait until I run out of oxygen; until I begin to suffocate. Then I must resurface. I must make a dash for those far away rays of sunshine breaking the surface. I travel so I can stay alive.
I go far, far away because when I stand on the summit of an Alpine peak and I look down upon the unbelievable vastness that surrounds me, it gets my heart pounding.
It’s because when I step into a pitch black Mexican cave full of water, regardless of the fact that I don’t know how to swim and I’m morbidly scared of darkness, it makes me believe that I can overcome anything.
Or when I cling on to a hang glider smoothly flying at a 1000 feet, and look down at the deep waters of the Pacific Ocean, it reminds me that life is so much bigger than the little bubble I live in 90% of the time. It gets the adrenaline pumping. It makes me want to live. A little longer. It reminds me to be thankful. Most importantly it inspires me to do good for others and to make someone else’s bubble a little bigger and a little bit better to live in.
So why buy things when I can make a memory, when I can inspire myself, when I can make living underwater a little easier by allowing myself to resurface more frequently?
This is my reality and my dream. I will continue to live it. Does this sound cheesy? Let’s establish this once and for all. I would cease to exist if I stopped moving. Traveling isn’t a luxurious splurge to me. It is about hope and having something to move forward towards.
I don’t know you yet, perhaps, but I will eventually. So tell me, what makes your heart tick? What makes the little flame inside you burst into a big fire?
