The Upside of Staying Still: A Traveler’s Tale

I can remember exactly where it all began. In an airplane, of course.

I was thirteen years old. My mom and I were on a bright afternoon flight to Phoenix, Arizona to vacation with a dear family friend of ours. Somehow we began discussing all the incredible places in the world we’d like to see. “If I could go anywhere in the world, I’d go to Italy!” I declared. We rattled off our most sought-after destinations around the globe and my mom recounted tales of her travels as a young woman. This is when the itch began. The pressure. Every traveler knows it. The knowledge of the limited time of our existence and how many incredible places to see before it’s over. This became very apparent in that moment and all the things I wanted to do within this now seemingly tiny window unveiled this profound yearning to see. To do. To live. To me, that meant to travel.

After that conversation, there had been nothing more inspiring to me in my life than the idea of travel and adventuring around the globe. I thought that if nothing else comes of this life I at least want to have seen the world. Everything else I eventually wanted (a family, a career, love) came second to this desire. Family can wait! I have things to do. A career can wait! I have places to go. Love can wait! I have bigger plans. So this, in essence, is how my 20s started off. I was either dreaming of traveling, planning a trip, or on one. I spent the years 18 to 24 living away from home, not always on the road but certainly not planning on returning to northeast Ohio any time soon.

After an extended trip to South America at the beginning of this year — one of the most riveting experiences of my life — I ended up broke and living at home in suburbia, resenting my present state more than anything (as though this wasn’t all a product of decisions I had consciously made). I began incessantly researching how to get myself back to South America, all the while wishing I could just be there already. After all, what could there possibly be for me here in Cleveland, Ohio?

Months passed. I got a job in the restaurant service industry and fiercely avoided any sort of commitment. I continued attempts to formulate my next trip but things just weren’t panning out. Living at home became burdensome, not just on me personally but on everyone around me. I also found it very difficult to find the right avenue for an extended trip that was both meaningful and affordable. My decision to move out, and therefore regain my independence as an adult, resulted in putting my travel plans on the back burner for the time being.

Now, it’s present day. I’m living on my own. I’m readily getting involved in the greater Cleveland community. I started volunteering with an incredible organization that supports local refugee populations. My relationship with my mother, as strained as it was when I lived at home, is better than it has been in a decade. I’ve begun a relationship with a man who lights up my heart beyond what I’ve ever experienced. I hang out with my brothers on a weekly basis. For the first time in a really long time, I have so much love in my life. Profound love. The kind you can’t fully experience when you’re on the road. What could there possibly be for me here in Cleveland, Ohio? Well, it turns out, a lot.

The past half year has been mentally and emotionally turbulent as the desire to make the best of my current situation, and perhaps build a life around it, and the yearning to explore have been in constant combat within my psyche. Truth be told, I’ve felt very lost at times. But I am becoming found, and in a very different way than what traveling has afforded me in the past. I’ve been forced to sit and think about the deep, existential questions on life that I’m sure most 20-somethings confront at some point. Who am I? What do I have to offer the world? What does it mean to live a meaningful life? And I am figuring out the answers to these questions, bit by bit. I’m investing in myself in ways that can only be done when you really have the time and mental space to do so. This essentially means sitting still, both literally and figuratively.

Travel can open you up to perspectives that you wouldn’t have encountered otherwise, and this cannot be undervalued. But I argue that you cannot fully put those perspectives to use until you’ve really sat down and allowed them to resonate within you. While you’re out on the road, every sense is stimulated. It’s exhilarating. It’s mind-altering. It is profound. But if you don’t allow yourself the space to understand and reflect upon the meaning of those experiences as they apply to every aspect of your life, then perhaps the whole point of travel has been missed.

I’m beginning to look at this stage in my life as a necessary “digestive” period, if you will. A reset. The essential pause before a new beginning. I realize now how I really needed to take a step back; to put a halt to the momentum that was pushing me forward to some unknown place when I didn’t really know how or why I needed to get there. People say it’s “all about the journey,” and there is definitely truth to that. But reflection upon the journey as it unfolds is critical to making it worth something.

I had this grand epiphany recently that self-exploration does not require journeys to far away lands. It necessitates a journey within yourself. It is on this path that you are far more likely to find the answers to life’s biggest questions than on a path of worldly, physical exploration. I am grateful for this time in my life, for I feel I’ve come closer to knowing myself and my purpose than I ever knew while adventuring. It seems the universe knew something I didn’t while keeping me here. I’ve committed myself to a yoga practice, which has illuminated parts of my being previously unknown to me. I’ve gotten involved in my community and have had the time to contribute to something bigger than myself. Most importantly, I’ve experienced the power of love, how it nourishes the soul. Yes, journeys to foreign lands inspire incredible feelings of exhilaration and euphoria. Believe me, I know. I don’t by any means think my travels are over. But I’ve come to view them a bit differently. I’ve realized there’s something to be said about the little gifts of routine, daily life. When it’s all said and done, I think we will find they are the most profound.

To anyone in the midst of a pause in their lives, I recommend appreciating the stillness. Sit with it and be grateful for this space that will allow you to explore the deeper parts of yourself and find what truly matters to you in this lifetime.

With gratitude,

Grace