Do You Have Wanderlust?
Where the unknown is good for the soul.
I just returned from an almost 3-week travel adventure, spending time in Bhutan, India and Dubai. While initially anxious about being away from the consistences and comforts of home for so long, I surprised even myself. During my travels, I found myself reveling in the present-moment exploration, the learning, the absorbing of cultures that feel so foreign, and yet, bring light to how people around the world are, also, extraordinarily similar.
Most people we came across were kind, and as interested in us as we were about them. Farmers and monks. Children and artisans. I asked as many questions as time and circumstance would allow, and found an openness that brings hope to what feels like such pervasive divisiveness. It felt like a breath of fresh air.
The trip also made me think about the genesis of my wanderlust. Though not for the healthiest reasons, my brother and I were schlepped around the world as kids—the result of my mother’s childhood separation from her parents during WWII (temporary, but scarring). When my parents—who started a tool company in 1958—had to travel to Switzerland for a trade show when I was 5, we went along. When meetings were arranged in Japan during sixth grade, they pulled us out of school to accompany them. A trip to visit family in Israel, let’s go. Any excuse to stop in her native country, my mom brought me to the Loire Valley, where I was carried into the river by some local fisherman. It may sound strange, but one of my favorite childhood memories is being woken up before sunrise to go to the airport.
My mother didn’t just bring us along, she wanted us to know the place—to meet locals, learn about cultural rituals, play with children. She arranged for us to be hosted in private homes for a meal (when it wasn’t always customary) and took us to visit classrooms. We toured cities and walked in the countryside.
While I, fortunately, did not have difficulty leaving our kids behind for an annual anniversary trip with my husband, our family has traveled together to many places and countries, near and far. My intention was to share the gifts I received—of openness, adventure, comfort with the unknown, and an appreciation of differences. Based on the stamps in my children’s passports, I think they are carrying this legacy forward.
Do you have a favorite travel memory? If so, I’d love to know, so feel free to drop a comment!
A MANTRA FOR YOU:
Pack and plan less. Notice and ask more.
On a separate note, in case you missed it, I’d like to share an essay I wrote on grieving and legacy that was recently published here. And this is the photo that I write about in the essay’s intro:
xx Caren
PS: If you enjoyed this post, feel free to click the ❤️ button. It makes my day and also helps spread the word about my newsletter.
How special to hear of your comings and goings. Your writing has the openness you write about.
Loren
❤️