People are quick to judge. Not everyone can understand why I love to travel, especially with four kids in tow. She must be lost. She can’t settle down. She can’t stay put and just be happy. She must have something to prove.
But I prefer a much more simple explanation.
I travel because I’m addicted to the rush of falling in love, over and over again.
The thrill. The chase. The lying in wait.
Falling in love with a city or a mountain view is like falling in love with someone.
The feeling of being completely alive. Senses fully awakened. Wanting and wanting to be wanted. To be fully engaged.
Unfiltered, raw beauty.
The excitement of being off balance, the ups and downs, acclimating to the unknown.
Falling in love and connecting with consequential strangers, whom you would have never otherwise met but for travel, even if only for a brief moment in your worldly existence.
Read More »Addicted to Wanderlust: On Travel, The Rush & Consequential Strangers