I love to travel.
For a little while I get to leave my responsibilities behind, at least the mental and physical responsibilities of home-making, making a buck, teenager-care, etc.
I seem to have more choice when I travel – when I wake or sleep, what I eat and drink, who I talk to, how I can get from A to B to Z. I get to be free even as I know I bear the consequences of my actions.
I give myself permission to be unorthodox-me. I get to be a stranger in a strange land doing strange things and living without judgment.
Travelling makes me a better person, if “done right”.
I am sure my travelling style is not perfect (not that there is such a thing 😀 ) though I do arrive on foreign soil with the intention of embracing what is there. To see how the world lives. Not just from across the field but rather to enter the field, to stand with the locals as much as I could. I will not be exactly like them, though I will imbibe some of their culture, appreciate some traditions and idiosyncrasies, notice the differences and the normality of their different life.
Instead of deciding on the oddities or wrongness of unfamiliar happenings, I can approach with curiosity and openness, to ask why and how instead.
Travel has taught me though that no matter our differences – in how we do or say, the coverings on our bodies, the faith in our spirituality, or the values to which we adhere – we are all the same.
We have situations or people that make us laugh and cry, that bring us joy and sorrow. We love and we lose, we long for connection and acceptance, we desire to make sense of our place in our worlds. Paying attention to the differences and the humanity that binds us is what makes traveling exhilarating. I never know what I would find.
That’s why I love to travel.
Why do you travel?
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