Restless. Or atleast discontended.
There’s something about that feeling you get when you travel, that feeling of isolation in the backseat while you’re staring out at the sky and road unfolding in front of you. It’s a feeling of hope and unquestionable happiness. I am not the first to feel that way and certainly not the only one. Why? Traveling gives us a sense of purpose. A goal and a path. But it also gives us freedom… an excuse to open the windows and breath. To finally listen to some album that you bought. To finally have that conversation with yourself or with your co-traveler.To live in your fantasies.
The act of traveling is also the act of creating an imaginary but yet tangible space where you can exist outside the life you’ve constructed. It all falls away and what you’ve got left is where you may be going and who you happen to be with.
Mysterious strangers and my own introspective, joyful traveler’s solitude are reminders to me of the hope and beauty that is possible from everything.
I used to get very anxious about road trips. I would be anxious about the whole journey until we arrived at our destination. Then one day I learned to enjoy the journey more than arriving at the destination. I now know that this is the best part of any adventure/road trip/journey.
