When wanderlust strikes

Photo: Contributed - Digital Vision

Wanderlust, a true autological word, refers to that irrepressible desire to explore, to discover and immerse oneself in foreign lands, cultures and new experiences.

For me, it’s a natural compulsion which arises every three or four months. It’s that instinctive need to just get away.  

Am I running? Am I hiding from unsolved issues? Am I bored and unsatisfied with my current situation? 

No, to all of the above.  

As I’ve matured, I’ve come to enjoy my own company. The wanderlust kicks in to tell me that it’s time to plug in to Joy. Time to live in the present. Time to remember, nurture, and embrace what makes me tick.

Social etiquettes, business demands, and family responsibilities combine to create a world in which we feel compelled to perform to expectations. We are what others require us to be, and it is a lovely, ordered, and safe place to be. Play within the rules and boundaries, and the world around us purrs in efficient symmetry. 

But, what do you do when the inner voice whispers ‘there’s got to be more to life than this’ The answer to that, my friend, is unique to every individual. For me: Wanderlust.

When travelling, I am fearless. I subscribe to the ‘Theory of Yes’. 

I’m open to initiating conversations, and engaging with people of all ages and backgrounds. I’m the explorer, and value the experience of truly getting lost. 

It’s not about being a risk-taker, it’s about being open to new adventures, of laughing with abandon, of trusting that the world is full of more good than bad. When travelling, I don’t care what others think of me, and therefore am much more authentic and true to my nature.  

Watching the world go by. Relaxing. Remembering, indulging, embracing, and loving what makes me . . . ME.

And then I come home, and the cycle begins anew. My goal is to make this Theory of Yes effect permanent, to always be true to my nature, my potential, my heart. To live life every day as an adventure.

Until then, I listen for the whisper, and trust my heart, when the wanderlust calls.

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.