life, opinion, soul, story

My Kind of Traveling

To have set foot in another city, town, or country is never enough. Why?

Because it only increases our drive to travel more.

Don’t get me wrong. I love to travel.

I mean, who doesn’t love traveling?

Paris. London. Spain. Rio de Janeiro. Bora-Bora.Greece…the list is limitless.

Though some may deny it, we are all travelers. We are born to be travelers.

We love traveling so much to the point that we want to learn, perhaps, French so badly. Or if not, maybe Mandarin, German, or Japanese. We are so fascinated by the beauty of what these places have to offer. Their sceneries, the ambience, the experience.

Even some of us read books to dig treasures from their past. We read books to know their food, their people, their culture. And just by doing that, although we don’t have the resources to actually be able to fly towards the place, we experience a flush of fulfillment. A mental picture appears right before us, and immediately, we fill ourselves with undeniable appreciation.

In other words, we love to travel because it is a way for us to connect to the world and to others.

But can we ever be settled?

We are so engrossed about traveling, flying across oceans, and daydreaming about round-tripping the world, when there are places we ought to travel first…

And these places are found within ourselves.

There are places within us, parts which we haven’t, or perhaps, we cannot dare to explore. These places are deep within us, at cold corners, at dark pits.

Perhaps, there’s more than the mere act of traveling that increases our appetite to roam the world.

Perhaps it’s our thoughts, agitated inside our head. Contradictions in collision with one another. Confusions that lead us to divide against ourselves. And they are rooted underneath those deep, cold, dark corners of our soul.

And maybe that’s why we want to travel so badly. Maybe that’s why to set foot in a new country is never enough…because once in a while, we want to escape from all these silent tortures. Not knowing that all of these live inside us, giving us the illusion that we have successfully escaped them.

No matter how much we try to connect to the world by traveling, days pass and somehow we still end up feeling that hole in the stomach. A feeling tinged with a bit of blue, a shade of grey, and a drop of darkness.

Going back to the question, ‘can we ever be settled’, in my opinion, the answer will always be no…

Unless we close our eyes and explore every area of our soul, set foot on those cold corners, solve the puzzles, and sweep off the broken shards stacked on those pits…

Unless we learn the language of our hearts first, its desires and dreams, what it has to say, before learning the languages of the people….

Unless we travel back in time and understand our own personal histories, our own personal culture, principles, beliefs, and tendencies…

Unless we learn to appreciate our own beauty, to acknowledge our strengths, and overcome our weaknesses…

Unless we truly connect with ourselves first before others.

We are all born travelers.

And in my opinion, the only genuine kind of traveling is journeying towards to core of one’s soul…

A life-long journey in which we will ever be settled.

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