Travel has meant many things to me over the past few years. However, it arguably took on it’s greatest meaning once the prospect of it being taken away from me came about. As many of you know, in 2018 I was victim of police brutality in Madrid. In September, my witch-hunt of a case will officially take place. To go back into the world after something so traumatic and make the most of my freedom is likely my greatest achievement to date. Saving my money, planning out my adventures, and then rising to the challenges that come with traveling have become more than just actions, they’ve become memories, stories, and friends made along the way.
In the midst of potentially putting my traveling on pause for the next five or so years (#freeMigs) and a pandemic, I’ve had to think about what it is exactly that makes exploration so enticing. What am I so desperately searching for that isn’t already within myself? At once, I realize that’s likely too large and vast a question to be answered with the immediacy I desire. Still, I feel it’s worth throwing such ideas around and seeing what sticks.
So easily, we conflate the need to explore with simply the want to see new things. If that were really true, many of us would be much better off simply opening Google Earth and roaming through our computer screens. With certainty, I can state that no amount of photos or Instagram stories will ever perfectly encapsulate or measure up to the feeling of simply losing yourself to fate. I discovered early on that my desire to see more of the world came from within to do just that. Since then, my life has fallen into a rhythm of something between absolute chaos and harmony, where one decision dominoes into another.
Where does this all begin? Why do we yearn so deeply to leave behind the comforts we’ve grown to cherish? I think, like a homing signal, something told me there was more of myself out there. Such a prospect can be terrifying, especially when we think about how large the world is. Start to travel, however, and one sees quickly just how small the world actually is. This summer, in planned and chance encounters alike, I’ve experienced what feels like divine intervention. Faces that I have missed so dearly, pushed away by oceans and closed borders, finally within reach. Then, the cherry on top, new connections, brought on by a sense within to, sometimes quite literally, turn around. With all of these people, in the tiniest windows of opportunity, we’ve managed to merge our experiences, and make something so beautiful with one another.
I believe our connectedness is what pushes and pulls us to explore. Like invisible tethers, our connections and paths have already been outlined. In myself and others, I see how often we choose to work against the current, opting away from the routes that feel right or enticing, for the things that feel safe or more realistic.
From firsthand experience, I can say that after taking leaps of faith we don’t always land on our feet, but from those bruises we gain something just as valuable. That’s without even addressing the decisions that seem blurred and indecipherable. Knowing yourself and the voice within is not always as simple as we let on. So often, it is not intuitive; it likely screams “this is the wrong thing to do.” It is because of this that I’m starting to think no matter what we do those darned tethers still find a way of bringing us together.
Perhaps, it’s all apart of the journey and the only thing holding all of this in place is the truth that faith (in whatever you believe in) binds us to sanity. This is because the cyclical nature of our world serves us in more ways then we can imagine. I find no coincidence in the ebbs and flows of our lives. Like how losing once close friends, can open the door to lifelong companions. Or the often oddly close proximity of one’s absolute lowest moments and the realization of one’s wildest dreams. And the kicker is that I’m certain I have come close, time and time again, to never experiencing any of it. To give up and shut down would be just as much a viable option, and there have certainly been moments where it felt like the only way out. Pushing on and through whatever crosses my path has become my life’s ethos, because I’ve seen the mountains I can move when I do.
It’s with this same mindset that I face the unknown of the next few years. To seemingly close this chapter of my life is bittersweet. The past two years of my life, exploring the world and myself, I think I’ve realized how full life can truly be. And I can definitely say that you don’t need pretty backdrops or overpriced tickets to enjoy all of it. It’s in the people, and more oftentimes within yourself, that you can begin to appreciate the breaths you’ve been given. Life is beautiful everywhere, but somehow in sharing moments with people you might not ever see again, in a place you might not ever visit again, it reaches a depth of bittersweetness that can bring tears to ones eyes. “Bittersweet” is a perfect summation of our time here on Earth. We are constantly saying hello and goodbye to places, people, and experiences, and more often than not there seems to be no sense to it all.
How can we at once love so deeply and know pain so intimately? I struggle more and more to see the reasoning between these lines of existing, especially when you realize how little time we really have here. It’s as though getting a peak at the blueprints or itinerary would somehow make it all hurt less. Yet, in not knowing any of the plan, we can smile at how blessed we’ve been to at least have experienced something we previously didn’t have within our grasp.
It’s no easy feat to live so fully, and to dive headfirst into the unknown. In fact, it can be quite sad honestly, knowing so many beautiful people that are so far away. Of course, this is a much better fate than to be surrounded by others and feel the greatest depths of loneliness. No matter where I am, I can honestly say I am never alone. This is because refusing to harden from life’s cruelties has become my number one priority, and remaining open to the love of those near and far seems the purest way to do so.
At the end of the day, I’m certain what’s meant to serve me will do just that. Many of life’s lessons have been difficult for me to come to grips with, but finding peace and meaning in the good and bad has somehow always been the most natural and simple one to grasp. If there is anything I have learned from this trip, it’s that it will all work out, especially in those moments that you struggle the most to see how and why.
I suppose the answer to my original question has, and will always be, otherness. It’s in other people, places, and cultures that we make something out of this life. Homogeneity is complacency and a rather dull lens to view something as vibrant as our world. Even if I have to stay still for some time, I believe that otherness can always be within reach.
Of course, the truth is that it’s never over until it’s over. What will be can seem unimaginable today; what once was, can disappear tomorrow. All we can do is learn from the past, plan for the future, and live in the present.
