A few weeks ago I moved back into my college apartment. I’ve been gone since December and the time between when I left and right now included camping in Oregon, climbing mountains in China, and exploring cities like Tokyo and Shanghai.
Lots of adventure.
I studied and worked some of my time abroad, but I also went off on my own, met people in hostels and just did whatever happened to happen that day. I’ve been to 3 countries, 5 states, and over 15 cities. And as a 21 year old, that’s the dream, right? To quote the great Johnny Cash, “I’m part gypsy, part homebody,” and lately, I’ve been a lot more the former.
So now I’m back for my senior year. I started working as a tour guide again on the same campus I’ve been on for three years. I’ve seen old friends, eaten at some usual places, and helped freshmen move into the building I lived in my own first year. I’ve remembered some forgotten routines, and started to settle back into “normal life.”
Since I’ve been away for a while, people tend to ask me what it was like. To explain what made my time away so “worth-it.” They’ve seen my posts on Facebook and Instagram. And I love talking about what I’ve done. But I’ve had this tendency lately of ending my saga with a “but hey, now it’s back to Reality.”
But I don’t like that. And I don’t necessarily believe it anymore, either.
Long-term travel is glorified. And rightfully so, to an extent. We admire people who pick up everything and just go. They have their own section on the Instagram “discover” page. We read their books and follow their blogs. They have the best kind of life and we can only hope to experience such amazement by living vicariously through them.
I know because I was one of those admirers. I envied those vagabonds. I wanted that story, too.
But I’ve also since traveled. And as inspiring and “eye-opening” as any travel may be, there’s an important chapter of the story that those people tend to leave out.
Imagine if today you dropped everything and just went. Somewhere. Anywhere. Just…away. For one year or three or five or…ten. You left your family, your job, your city, your apartment, your favorite park, your organizations, your school, your…’life.’ Because that’s how you’re supposed to find happiness or inner-peace, eventually, right?
The books say it’ll probably feel liberating.
But now fast forward. You’ve been gone, “on the go.” You’ve stayed in one place for maybe the maximum of a few weeks. You haven’t had a permanent friend, or city, or room, or relationship, in, well, a long time.
And you’re starting to miss it. But “it” isn’t the consistency of a physical surrounding. You can live without that. “It” is the ability to not only contribute to the people and community that used to make up that reality you so wanted to leave, but to do so constantly. And not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not able to. At least not as much as before. It’s harder to develop those relationships, build meaningful projects, appreciate hobbies — new and old. It’s not your fault, though. You’re a vagabond. It just comes with the territory(ies).
Everyone knows those people who come back from travel and wish with every fiber of their being to go back. And I have nothing against them. I’ve been there. Home doesn’t just have it anymore. It’s so routine. There aren’t castles, gondolas, buddhas everywhere. Picking up and leaving seems so romantic. Nostalgia doesn’t help either. The grass is always greener. And it’s perfectly normal.
But what happens when you do pick up, and do go… but this time, you stay? And after a while, fairytale life becomes, well…routine. Does the cycle start all over again?
And though, it doesn’t usually make sense to fantasize about “going home” when we’re in some far-off land, maybe we should do it a bit more often. Not to take away from the present moment and how unique and inspiring it might be. But so we don’t dread when it’s time to head “back to Reality.” The truth is, we should get excited about returning. Because if your “reality” isn’t where you want to be, well, there’s your problem.
Your reality isn’t a routine; it’s the attitude you choose to have regarding that routine. It’s your choice to be someone who can make each day a little bit different than the one before. The only thing that’s changed is that now we can’t just jump on a bus or train or a plane to do that. It’ll to have to come more from within. An internal decision that’s not necessarily difficult, just more intentional. I’ve been working on this.
I’ll tell you what I have figured out. Now that I’m back, I appreciate the teams I’m a part of and the people I see every day that much more. They’re the ones who help form my “reality.” I enjoy my everyday work that much more, because I’m contributing to an outcome directly and wholly. I’m present. 100% there and ready to go. I can lead, collaborate, help, and do so completely. And that’s exciting
So what I’m saying is to travel. Really. Seeing new places and meeting new people on the road is one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done in my 21 years. Travel far and wide and anywhere you want to go. But when you come back home, whenever you’re ready, let those experiences recharge you. Let them get you excited about coming back to a place where you can do anything you want to do. Without any kind of restriction. Miss the travel days, but don’t miss what’s going on right now. There’s nothing in the book of life that says a day at home can’t be as exhilarating as a day in Spain or Australia or China.
It’s really not about what’s around you. It’s just you.
Stefano Montali 