A jolt. A thing, an experience, that slams you back into a sense of wonder, a sense of awe, a sense that you’re so small, that you haven’t seen it all, that there’s so much more. Something that brings back the awe, the sublimity, to a life that is beyond precious.
That’s what travel does for me. It brings me out of myself, it takes me out and up and deeper. Standing on a sea shore, looking at the horizon, and knowing how very, very small I am in the wonder of the universe. Standing at the base of a mountain in a country where I don’t speak the language reminds me to never let my need to explore be dampened by the everyday.
I think we become jaded, existing day to day in our own little worlds, in our sidewalk cities and suburban estates. There’s nothing else. We slowly, inexorably, become sucked into this being all there is. We forget, and we sink-drown in routine, not even knowing we’ve stopped breathing and the world is out of focus.
Travel slams you out of that. It opens your eyes, it makes you take that deep, gasping breath of air as you surface from the mundane to really see the sky and feel the wind and smell new things. It makes you part of the world even as you know your place is elsewhere.
It opens the closed places and quiets the inner noise.
Get away from the daily and immerse yourself in the world beyond your boundaries. It’s so worth it.