I travel alone.
Not always, but sometimes. I just got home from a week in New York City. Last year I did a 12 day road trip around Nova Scotia and Cape Breton Island by myself. I’ve gone to Paris by myself, Stockholm, Milan… I’ve never thought much of it.
These are places I wanted to go, so why wouldn’t I simply, go?
I enjoy it.
Not every moment, of course, but overall… Absolutely. The good moments tend to be really, really good. Profoundly good. Making the hard ones worth it. You know how they say nothing worthwhile in life comes easy? Well, that’s what this is. I’ll have these deeply uncomfortable moments but if I stick with it, if I persist instead of running, on the other side it’s always magic.
But the real magic? That happens after the trip.
That’s when everything that came up—everything I had a chance to see and think about—seems to settle together and I’m left with this incredibly reassuring, actionable feeling of, “This. This is what I need to do next.”
An Aha! moment, if you will. Questions or anxiety that has been plaguing me for months will have answers. I’ll suddenly know what to do next. I’ll know if that job or course or project or relationship is right for me. I’ll know what needs to change and sometimes, exactly how to change it.
Which is really freaking cool. It’s a level of clarity I can’t get from any other kind of experience. What might otherwise take me a year to figure out I seem to be able to do in a week. It’s like, condensed emotional growth. (?)
I know there’s a lot to expand on here but for now I want to leave you with this…
We don’t need an invitation.
The city we want to travel to, the restaurant we want to go to, the exhibit we want to see, the place we want to hike…
We don’t need to wait for permission or an invitation. A partner or an excuse. We’re ready as we are.
We can simply… Go.
Taken from Williamsburg, Brooklyn on my first day in the city last week.