We being on the road are like little lost kids wandering around Mother Earth. We are so insignificant, yet we have our very own flames burning inside us. We prefer to be lost and not found, left wandering around instead.
We are tourists, travelers, backpackers, wanderers, or anything else that refers to not having a home at that very moment. We have or need this ability to make home wherever we go. Just temporary homes. We meet on the same road, just like cars hitting the cross junctions. We have the similarities that brought us together and these comfort our fear of strangers among us. We open up our minds and souls, sharing whatever we have despite the different languages we speak.
We are illuminated by the moon and the sun. They signify our blissful presence, we are entirely fortunate to be on the road every single day. For there are always some of us who can’t because of every reason that existed. We carry on each day through every sunrise and sunset, with hope of catching the next one in its most beautiful form. At night, we gaze upon the Milky Way and try to trace them with our fingers, embracing that very special moment. We feel the connection between nature and us. Here, we find courage to keep us going on the road.
We leave our footprints and laughter behind with each small village or big city we travel to. We don’t just make friends, we form the relationship that defines us humans. We see through culture and people as we travel to more places. We feel the emotions through expressions on each individual we talk to. We bring those experiences along with us to other places, just like a young mother tugging her precious child in the shadows. We travel not to just experience places and culture, but to forge the bond that is so important between humans since olden times. Which has been neglected in our own comfort zones.
We live our days on the road with our rugged backpacks. We are never sick of wearing the same clothes over and over again. We like the feel of being in the same clothes because that reminds us of who we are right from the beginning. Nothing has change, instead we evolve positively as humans. We learn to live with what we have. Yes, this is us. As we wander, we feel the useless necessity of some belongings and realize that we don’t need that much to be happy. Just sufficient to be perfect. Happiness is not correlated with the amount of things we own, we are all happy in our own aspects. Days go by and we travel lighter, but we become heavier with all the emotions and experiences on the road. We are very alive.
We sleep at unfamiliar places for a night or two. We are thankful for these temporary homes of ours. From the African plains to Andean mountains, and to the bustling city of New York, we are more than elated to have a roof over our heads. Sometimes just the grasses beneath our backs and the starry night above us. Because we know when we grow old, we have stories to tell our grandchildren. We do not feel uncomfortable living in noisy dorms that took a few dollars off our pockets, yet those are moments when we meet people and these connections last a lifetime. For the definition of being comfortable has changed long ago. A stark contrast to our former definition of comfort.
We no longer care that much about destinations, because the journey itself is the destination. No matter by plane, sleeper bus or overnight boats, we are confronted by the reality of maintaining our travels. We go for the cheapest option because we have a budget to stick to. And this budget is a result of the sacrifices we made in order to be on the road. For each caramel frappé we skip at Starbucks, it helps in maintaining our travels. So we are not giving up the sacrifices we made easily. Our experiences are not measured by what kind of bus or boat we take, or even hitchhiking. Each to their own experiences.
We drowned in our own sweats in the middle of the hot Thailand summer, or we shiver to bits and pieces under the merciless cold of the Russian winter. It is tough but we embrace it because we live the next one better. We know each place we travel to will have their unique experiences and this is why we love it. That insatiable and undesirable wanderlust creature that lives within us. Experiences come with lessons, but we fall down seven times and climb up eight. Definitely stronger than before and this strengthen us for the future roads ahead. Each monetary related scam or warm hospitality from the locals is a form of teaching, something we don’t get from years of biased education that we had, be it positive or negative.
We are our own directors, actors and actresses on the road. In reality, we have different professions. Some of us are students. Some bankers. Some teachers. Some scientists. No matter what, we drifted to the same road and are on the same page right now. We know that time has never wait for us, and it never will. We acknowledge the need to seize the opportunity to go. We read through travel guides, travel blogs and everything we got, so much only to plan something that is dedicated to ourselves because we want to chase our enchanted dreams. Being on the road is like a movie, things unfold as time passes, with or without increasing saturation.
We seek freedom and here is why we are on the road. We are the victims of our own cages which nobody can free us from, except for ourselves. We are doing it right. Just like us looking out from the trains zooming past patches of rice fields, everything around us become blurry. The only constant seems to be us and the sleeper carriage that we are in. Clarity takes place when the train is pulling to the final stop, which undoubtedly tells us that we have reached our destination.
But we missed out another constant that was with us right from the start.
We always miss a place called home, our very own home no matter where we go. We know it is always there for us, like a pivot balancing us out. At the end of the day, we will all survive and return from the road, to the place called home.
This post also appeared on Thought Catalog.