Recently, I’ve been told that my constant need to get out and explore a new place is running away.
Those words didn’t necessarily offend me, but I felt that I needed to clear up why this need exists; why I need to “run away.”
I simply do not see packing up everything I own and moving halfway across the country (or even world) as running away. To me, it is throwing myself out of my comfort zone and into a whole bunch of “what if”s and unknowns.
Some say I’m avoiding my problems. The only thing that I ever try to avoid by traveling is falling into what I’d consider a boring life… Finding “the one,” moving to a small suburban town, and setting up an entire life there. While that may be some peoples’ cup of tea, I know I’d get antsy and feel a great need to leave.
I don’t view my actions as running away from problems, but more so as the opposite: running towards living a life of serendipity, no matter how many “problems” I may encounter.
When I’m 90 years old and on my deathbed, there’s no way I want to have a “what if” in my mind. I want to experience as much as I possibly can in this life I have, and while, yes, I do have an entire lifetime to fill with experiences, there are so many possibilities in the world that I have yet to even fathom. It would take an infinite amount of lifetimes to follow every possibility’s full course, which is the reason that I get antsy to travel and see new things. There are so many unknowns that I’d love to discover and I have no time to waste.
I don’t necessarily see myself “running away” from anything. Instead, I’m creating a life of adventure for myself; a life full of as many possibilities I can fit into one lifetime. Despite others critiquing my choices, I wouldn’t want to live this life any other way.