Muiz @ Perhentian
Muiz @ Perhentian (Photo credit: Anan Amri)

As I write this, I’m flying. It’s an incredible concept: to be suspended in
the air, moving at two hundred miles an hour — while I read a magazine.
Amazing, isn’t it?
I woke up at three a.m. this morning. Long before the sun rose, thirty
people loaded up three conversion vans and drove two hours to the San Juan
airport. Our trip was finished. It was time to go home. But we were changed.

As I sit, waiting for the flight attendant to bring my ginger ale, I’m left
wondering why I travel at all. The other night, I was reminded why I do it —
why I believe this discipline of travel is worth all the hassle.

I was leading a missions trip in Puerto Rico. After a day of work, as we
were driving back to the church where we were staying, one of the young women
brought up a question.

“Do you think I should go to graduate school or move to Africa?”
I don’t think she was talking to me. In fact, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t.
But that didn’t stop me from offering my opinion.

I told her to
. Hands down. No excuses. Just go.
She sighed, nodding. “Yeah, but…”

I had heard this excuse before, and I didn’t buy it. I knew the “yeah-but”
intimately. I had uttered it many times before. The words seem innocuous
enough, but are actually quite fatal.
Yeah, but …
… what about my job?
… what about my boyfriend?
This phrase is lethal. It makes it sound like we have the best of
intentions, when really we are just too scared to do what we should. It allows
us to be cowards while sounding noble.

Most people I know who waited to travel the world never did it. Conversely,
plenty of people who waited for grad school or a steady job still did those
things after they traveled.
It reminded me of Dr. Eisenhautz and the men’s locker room.

Dr. Eisenhautz was a German professor at my college. I didn’t study German,
but I was a foreign language student so we knew each other. This explains why
he felt the need to strike up a conversation with me at six o’clock one

I was about to start working out, and he had just finished. We were both
getting dressed in the locker room. It was, to say the least, a little awkward
— two grown men shooting the breeze while taking off their clothes.
“You come here often?” he asked. I could have laughed.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” I said, still wiping the crusted pieces of whatever
out of my eyes.
“That’s great,” he said. “Just great.”

I nodded, not really paying attention. He had already had his adrenaline
shot; I was still waiting for mine. I somehow uttered that a friend and I had
been coming to the gym for a few weeks now, about three times a week.

“Great,” Dr. Eisenhautz repeated. He paused as if to reflect on what he
would say next. Then, he just blurted it out. The most profound thing I had
heard in my life.

“The habits you form here will be with you for the rest of your life.”Photos by Geoff Heith
My head jerked up, my eyes got big, and I stared at him, letting the words
soak into my half-conscious mind. He nodded, said a gruff goodbye, and left. I
was dumbfounded.

The words reverberated in my mind for the rest of the day. Years later,
they still haunt me. It’s true — the habits you form early in life will, most
likely, be with you for the rest of your existence.
I have seen this fact proven repeatedly. My friends who drank a lot in
college drink in larger quantities today. Back then, we called it “partying.”
Now, it has a less glamorous name: alcoholism. There are other examples. The
guys and girls who slept around back then now have babies and unfaithful marriages.
Those with no ambition then are still working the same dead end jobs.

“We are what we repeatedly do,” Aristotle once said. While I don’t want to
sound all gloom-and-doom, and I believe your life can turn around at any
moment, there is an important lesson here: life is a result of intentional
habits. So I decided to do the things that were most important to me first, not
After graduating college, I joined a band and traveled across North America
for nine months. With six of my peers, I performed at schools, churches, and
prisons. We even spent a month in Taiwan on our overseas tour. (We were huge in

As part of our low-cost travel budget, we usually stayed in people’s homes.
Over dinner or in conversation later in the evening, it would almost always
come up — the statement I dreaded. As we were conversing about life on the road
— the challenges of long days, being cooped up in a van, and always being on
the move — some well-intentioned adult would say, “It’s great that you’re doing
this … while you’re still young.”

Ouch. Those last words — while you’re still young — stung like a squirt of
lemon juice in the eye (a sensation with which I am well acquainted). They
reeked of vicarious longing and mid-life regret. I hated hearing that phrase.
I wanted to shout back,

“No, this is NOT great while I’m still young! It’s great for the rest of my
life! You don’t understand. This is not just a thing I’m doing to kill time.
This is my calling! My life! I don’t want what you have. I will always be an adventurer.”
In a year, I will turn thirty. Now I realize how wrong I was. Regardless of
the intent of those words, there was wisdom in them.

As we get older, life can just sort of happen to us. Whatever we end up
doing, we often end up with more responsibilities, more burdens, more
obligations. This is not always bad. In fact, in many cases it is really good.
It means you’re influencing people, leaving a legacy.

Youth is a time of total empowerment. You get to do what you want. As you
mature and gain new responsibilities, you have to be very intentional about
making sure you don’t lose sight of what’s important. The best way to do that
is to make investments in your life so that you can have an effect on who you
are in your later years.

I did this by traveling. Not for the sake of being a tourist, but to
discover the beauty of life — to remember that I am not complete.
There is nothing like riding a bicycle across the Golden Gate Bridge or
seeing the Coliseum at sunset. I wish I could paint a picture for you of how
incredible the Guatemalan mountains are or what a rush it is to appear on
Italian TV. Even the amazing photographs I have of Niagara Falls and the American
Midwest countryside do not do these experiences justice. I can’t tell you how
beautiful southern Spain is from the vantage point of a train; you have to
experience it yourself. The only way you can relate is by seeing them.

While you’re young, you should travel. You should take the time to see the
world and taste the fullness of life. Spend an afternoon sitting in front of
the Michelangelo. Walk the streets of Paris. Climb Kilimanjaro. Hike the
Appalachian trail. See the Great Wall of China. Get your heart broken by the
“killing fields” of Cambodia. Swim through the Great Barrier Reef. These are
the moments that define the rest of your life; they’re the experiences that
stick with you forever.

Traveling will change you like little else can. It will put you in places
that will force you to care for issues that are bigger than you. You will begin
to understand that the world is both very large and very small. You will have a
newfound respect for pain and suffering, having seen that two-thirds of
humanity struggle to simply get a meal each day.

While you’re still young, get cultured. Get to know the world and the
magnificent people that fill it. The world is a stunning place, full of
outstanding works of art. See it.

You won’t always be young. And life won’t always be just about you. So
travel, young person. Experience the world for all it’s worth. Become a person
of culture, adventure, and compassion. While you still can.
Do not squander this time. You will never have it again. You have a crucial
opportunity to invest in the next season of your life now. Whatever you sow,
you will eventually reap. The habits you form in this season will stick with
you for the rest of your life. So choose those habits wisely.

And if you’re not as young as you’d like (few of us are), travel anyway. It
may not be easy or practical, but it’s worth it. Traveling allows you to feel
more connected to your fellow human beings in a deep and lasting way, like
little else can. In other words, it makes you more human.
That’s what it did for me, anyway. – Source by http://goinswriter.com/

“Think About Your Next Trip”

Enhanced by Zemanta

Related Post

Leave a Reply