What Does Travel Mean To You?

Travel is no longer a first world pleasure; it is now a to-do for most of us—yet another task to be checked off from our interminable lists.  In making its way to the top of our to-do lists, travel seems to have swept up a bunch of clichés that cling to it, pretending to define the experience. So, depending on the circles in which you play, travel might be: a rite of passage to adulthood, a sign of refinement, the benchmark for sophistication, a status symbol, etc, etc.

Pigeonholed thus, travel loses some of its lustre and romance, and all of that sense of unlimited possibility. Travel as a measure of your 'cool' quotient while bogus is rather innocuous because most of us eventually stop craving this type of external validation. But travel as a guarantee of edification is somewhat insidious. Why? Because it is a hefty promise and a false one at that. Journeying to far off, exotic lands does not automatically make us all kinder, more tolerant or insightful. 

My father always explained his irreverence for religious dogma by telling us that the teachings of a religion were meant for individual contemplation, not mass indoctrination. I believe this thinking holds true for how we experience travel too. The urge to venture far from home, the joy of exploring new places and cultures, any insights and epiphanies, and any feelings of transcendence that result from these adventures are completely individual. Much of this will elude definition and description; i.e., will be felt acutely but can never be expressed adequately. So, why not enjoy the privilege of travel in a way that makes our hearts sing, and resist the urge to choreograph, corral and condense our stories and experiences to fit others’ labels, punchlines, mantras, sound bytes, and hashtags.