Travel Opens the Window of the Soul

I was watching the kitchen clock tick down with a zoo full of butterflies threatening to burst out of my stomach at any minute. In truth, I had been looking forward to this expedition for months. Still, it was a mix of excitement and nervousness as I checked my passport for the eighth time. There is something terrifying and also liberating about travel. It is not only that you step out of your usual routine. You burst the bubble of your own reality and step bravely into a new world.

This moment happened when I stepped onto the first train in Seoul, South Korea. We were crammed into small carriages. The tones of a foreign language were broadcast throughout the journey. The architecture echoed centuries of accumulated wisdom. Trains rushed past with the same intensity as the people around them. People seemed to move as a mass, rather than individually. There was a profound sense of unity between strangers I couldn't quite explain. Perhaps it was reflecting the conformist society I had entered. The network of the train system was a web of organised chaos.

It was just like in a new video game level. We start fresh, curious, with our mind and eyes open. Our expectations, reputation, and social norms are left behind as old baggage. But then there is us back home, fretting about trivial complaints such as what font type is best for the PowerPoint. The tone of your co-worker threatens to derail your whole afternoon. Papers keep piling up. We run as fast as we can on the hamster wheel, yet seem unable to step off.

Travel opens the window of your soul. It allows for a reset, clearing the mental windscreen of our minds. Once we have escaped the walls that define our day-to-day routine, we see how minor our concerns are in contrast to the human experience. Does it matter that the coffee is not hot enough, that our muscles are sore, eyes are bleary? No. Because there is someone else in the world who is suffering more. Who has less. Who would willingly sacrifice their entire world for a taste of what you have.

I remember riding my bike in the rural rice fields of Bali when an earthquake shook the ground we were riding on. In the aftermath, a small child brought his hand to his mouth. The mother and this child were starving, selling 50-cent bracelets just so they could find their next meal. In the affluent Western world, we follow trending diets as if they were fashion trends. We suddenly become pescatarian or go gluten-free, seeking the advice of social media influencers. Forgetting that for millions of people, particular diets are not a choice. They care only that there is food on the table.

In Rise: How to Turn Adversity into Your Greatest Strength, I discuss this idea of suffering. It is important to ask, is there someone suffering more than me? How trivial is my problem in relation to someone who is experiencing true adversity? When we ask this question, we extinguish the enormity of our obstacle, whatever that may be. We rise above our challenges, seeing the hurdle for what it is.

Perhaps the true purpose of travel is not to escape life, but to return to it with clearer eyes.