Nine years ago, I bemoaned to a friend about no international travel experience. He gave me a piece of great advice: Go to one new country each year. Imagine all the places after twenty or thirty years! That year I went to Puerto Rico, tasted my first true adventure, and never looked back.
Those of us travel addicts understand the insatiable desire to discover new places, constantly adding a new destination to the dream list as soon as checking off another. We know about the burden of not being able to live a lifestyle conducive to frequent travel (as in…every month, anyone?!) and unexpected life expenses pulling from hard-earned vacation savings. Sacrificing eating out, busying ourselves with a side-hustle or second job, and longingly pouring over past trip photos to the point of tears. I get it. Adventure runs in our blood. Travel reveals an innate hard-wiring for it.
The desire to explore, see new places, study other cultures, reveals a common thread of purpose and lights the way to dreams. Perhaps it involves working at a local orphanage in Kenya or passionately learning to preserve life’s natural resources or endangered species. Maybe travel means a mission trip or a soul-rejuvenating vacation so you can go home and be a better version of yourself. Reasons and personal purpose behind journeying around the world vary for all of us, whether it entails personal growth, finding ourselves, helping others, or a complex conglomeration of multiple motives.
Getting down to the nitty gritty, to quote the beloved Anthony Bourdain, “Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life- and travel- leaves marks on you. Most of the time, those marks- on your body or on your heart- are beautiful.”
Personally, I travel because…Well, I’m obsessed with it. It makes me come alive. I get to do and live my passion, my dreams. I adore telling a visual story with the camera, occasionally dabbling in black and white film photography. I spend hours editing pictures for months on end after a trip. I love learning about other cultures, gaining new perspectives, allowing travel to reset my disordered soul and toss up boring routines. I meet people from all over the world, let God’s light shine, and write about the journey. Yet another Anthony Bourdain quote sums it up, “Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you- it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you…Hopefully, you leave something good behind.”
What is your dream worth? Is it worth pushing through fear? Making sacrifices? For a long time I yearned to see the world but circumstances tied me down, whether an issue of time, money, paid vacation hours, fear, no travel buddies, perceived ill-timing, or simply seeing international travel as “out of reach” and somehow an extremely difficult huge deal. I remember a large map of Europe from a National Geographic magazine hanging in the bedroom of my first apartment, unfolded and taped onto a piece of black poster board. I recall placing my hand over Europe and fervently praying, “Please take me here!” In another instance, I begged God while kneeling at the alter one Sunday morning to take me around the world. He put that dream there, and He made a way- but it was up to me to properly manage a savings plan, get my passport renewed, ask questions, research, and begin to see this as a doable lifestyle even if it meant only one country per year. And rather than limiting myself to one place annually, some years I now venture off to multiple countries, while other years require laying low.
Its worth the planning, sacrifice, pushing through fear, going in spite of fear, and strictly budgeting. Its worth it, to step out on metal grating atop the Eiffel Tower, a childhood dream vividly leaping off picture books into reality in a matter of flashing moments. To sit with feet dangling perched on a cliff, overlooking the Greek Islands, evening sun dazzling across rolling ocean and breathlessly wondering how a place so beautiful possibly exists on this side of heaven. Its worth it to be able to venture just beyond coral reef while quietly balanced on a paddle board, where curious whales mosey their way over, majestically rising for air and flapping a fin as if to say a friendly hello right beneath you.
Worth it, to stand amongst ancient ruins or unwind at a pub Charles Dickens frequented years ago. To taste the best espresso of your life, indulge in French cheeses and decadent matchless pastries, or skip meals to sit in the magnificent presence of holiness within a cathedral. To marvel over works of Picasso, Degas, and obscure street artists. To go from flamenco shows to dancing all night in Valencia, swimming in the ocean under a full moon, savoring abundant flowing wine for three Euros, and did I mention the beautiful men? Potential international romance options abound. London. Paris. Munich. New York, Honolulu, and Anchorage. Barcelona. Playa del Carmen. Beckoning us travel fanatics to discover a city’s hidden gems, hole-in-the-wall pubs, Bohemian markets, off-the-beaten-path photo opportunities, as well as main attractions.
“Always leave a reason to go back,” a recent former airline pilot acquaintance advises me. I began changing my thinking after hearing this, always trying to do everything while visiting a new place. Whilst I never wish to see certain less-fortunate parts of this world again, so much beauty and wonder beckons abroad. Yet, those of us from the United States probably know that feeling of shameless “kiss the ground” syndrome upon landing back on American soil after a few weeks of jet setting.
So here we are. I spent seven years blundering around trying to find my “vision” and “why” for Arise and Shine Studios, only to discover the answer residing within me all along. To find my passion, I pursued just about every other subject matter, from weddings to babies, portraits to families, seniors to pets, leading me in a long roundabout back home to myself and true dreams of pursuing travel photography, a 35mm film camera, telling stories, and making an impact on the lives of single solo traveler women. I looked everywhere to discover my niche, only to realize the validity of my own hopes and desires waiting to be uncovered, laying dormant during those seven years.
I stopped forcing my art to make money, quit chasing after mirages of what looked like an assured road to success. I ceased creating “sellable” ubiquitous paintings and running after a vision within the confines of other photographers’ approval. I tossed dreaded photo sessions and started paying attention to how my soul responded to suffocating my true colors, smearing my heart’s true north. Not worth it. I redefined my purpose based off the simple act of doing art, whether or not this whole thing flies. Now I am happy. I have peace. I feel deep joy, I feel alive. And to me, this…Is success.
And you know what set me down this path? Travel.