Why do we travel?
Is it narcissistic? Do we travel for ourselves? Or maybe we set out to find something we’ve always been looking for. No one answer to this question can possibly be correct.
We travel to enrich something about life. To find purpose, to find meaning, to find center.
The road calls us, and like an addiction, we respond. Jetting off to the next place.
So why do we travel, Logan?
For someone such as myself, this is life. The People, The culture. It is the stories, memories, and moments shared. It is the smells, tastes, sounds of a new city. It is something you have to find to understand, it is almost existential.
Most people live their lives waiting to live their lives. They miss the present. That is easy to do, yet, it is also easy to breathe in what you are experiencing.
I’ve said before that we are not meant to plant roots but be free. Free in the moment, free in life. We are supposed to laugh, cry, wander. Going somewhere far from home can bring you peace, this gives you a new sense of what life really can be.
For some, travel isn’t the way. For people like me, well, it is. This life is the only thing I know, the only thing that makes me joyful. So I’ll continue to find new cultures, to eat all I can, and to share with people that I would have never met.
The road calls and I answer.
Every. Damn. Time… I answer.