..Why You Should Travel (Solo or Not)..

It has been said many times and in many ways that traveling is a life-changing experience.

I was 28 when I decided to do my first travel. And I mean it Solo. Having been a workaholic chick, I was compelled to move out of my protective cocoon when I realized I am squandering my time to too much work. I have no mouths to feed, no mortgage to pay, no boyfie holding me back to go where my feet lead me.

My mom once asked, “What are you doing with your life?” That’s one question I keep on pondering to this day. With the help of travel.

To young people like us (if it’s not too much for an adjective), here’s why you should start sorting priorities in life. And make travelling one on your lists.

Travelling freed me.

I am in bondage with my comfort zone. I always stay on the safe side. And I don’t think there’s wrong with that. I see the world as beautiful. But I also believe with all its eminent threats. For years, I embrace this thought. Who would dare “go and seek the Great perhaps?” and losing your (V-card)? Or see the marvels and edges of the world and go back home bones?

One night, I went home from duty all drained; physically and emotionally. I wasn’t my best. I feel like I’m trapped in a circle that has the ability to stretch. If only I want to. And if only I try. I booked my ticket back home. And booked another one.

From the beach life I spent for days in Calaguas, I headed the communist country of Cambodia.

Solo. 

Fearful yet overwhelmed by the fact that I’m doing the thing I’ve been delaying for years.

Time and Age. There’s no turning back.

I was like a girl freed from the embrace of my mother’s arms. Capable to saunter the plains and rocky sides of life. I was happier. I feel more alive. More useful. Seeing things I haven’t seen on my safe circle, it’s priceless.

The world is a haven.

Fear freed me. I just knew it when I was afraid no more.

Travelling made me see the grey side of life. Aside from black and white.

You’ll meet people that will teach you to appreciate the things you can’t see when you are in your comfort zone.

Mama Mia was my hostess when I was in Georgia. She made my daily breakfast, making sure I have enough butter and jam on my plate. She kept walking here and there, as if there’s something more she had to add up on my more-than-enough-for-breakfast table. I asked her to join me while I’m sipping my cup of coffee.  When you are immersing on a different culture, anything said by someone new to you is like finding a hardbound book. Every word is captivating you wouldn’t want it end. When asked what would be her advice if I happened to be her daughter, the answer struck me.

“Love like you will never love again.”

How would you know if it’s love? My early morning chant.

“You can’t go through a day without thinking about that person.”

“What if you can?” I put down the cup on the saucer, my fingers interlocking on the table, my eyes transfixed on the blue-gray eyes that were longing for love that was lost.

There was a long pause. And a sigh.

I knew right then, there are questions that you have to find out for yourself.

Clichés are clichés. But yes, travelling invoked a sense of belongingness to different human beings. With the same wants in life.

We all want love.

Now that’s not just black and white.

Travelling humbled me.

Not in my pocket but in portfolio of experiences.

When there are unwanted things that are happening to us, we hear people say “let’s charge it to experience, anyway”. When I haven’t traveled yet, it connotes a negative impression that past experiences are collections of unfortunate events. They have to be buried.

But it doesn’t have to be that way.

Past experiences (mistakes included) sometimes are repeated, I noticed.

I get lost most of the time when it comes to finding directions. That’s my Achilles’ heel, my nemesis I can’t perfect even though I travel often. I do self-introspection whenever I reached my hotel, remembering what went wrong when I have all the needed maps in my hands. This is the thing: it doesn’t matter how many times you went sideways. As long as you know where you are going, no matter how many times you get lost and back, there will always be someone pointing you to your destination. Because this world is filled with people who lost track same as you. Who were already there where you wanted to go. Travelling will humble you to ask for help, to ask for directions, to seek for advice, even if that comes from a stranger. And there, in humility, you will know that there’s so much to be filled yet in the many spaces of your heart when it comes to knowing the unknown.

When given a chance to choose among whom I should sit to have coffee with, I’ll content myself to someone who has many stories to tell than someone who has a fat pocket( excuse the abs) but nothing to share about.

Travelling restored my faith in humanity.

It was almost midnight when my sister and I arrived in Fukuoka. We were struggling not only in cold weather but with the language barrier. We knocked at a pub, trying our best to explain how to find our guest house. The owner went out of her store, and the next steps blew our minds. She didn’t point out where we are going. She led us there!

It can’t be helped that when you travel, you will encounter countless moments of conflicting decision-making. Should I listen to this person? Should I accept the offer of help? What if I am being misled? Or he just wants my money? Travelling has taught me the perils lurking around. But sometimes, it’s the dangerous situations that reveal how far I have trusted the Lord to let me “walk on the Red Sea” unharmed. It’s when I pray the hardest. And heaven feels the closest.

Instinct.  It’s the innermost voice that tells you when the thing is right. Or not.

It’s the same voice that tells me why God created people with different eyes, and skin color, and language, and smell, and ideas, and perspectives. If He created us all the same, then why would I travel to see what’s different?

He scattered strangers along my way to show me that in the vast field of doubts, goodness is an innate gift to every mankind.

I have a dire appetite for wanderlust. Be it home or abroad. I’ve come to terms that probably, I was something of a thing that constantly moves in my past life. I have high affinity to frivolous adventures, ruined places that stand in magnificence despite the plethora of what time can actually do, and the roads less or (unlikely) traveled. It’s a thing that reconciles me to the world, me to my disparaging thoughts, and me to the kind of person willing to ferment so the world can bring out the best in me: Alone or Not.

I know it takes a leap of courage to travel. Not only it entails being strong with your decisions, but being open to all the uncertainties of life in an open road. Therefore, single ladies, there is no best time to experience travelling (solo or not) but this point in your life when you don’t have to pack things for three or four. Remember, time is both a friend and a traitor. Seize the days that it is still a friend to you.

It might not be this easy again.