“Not all those who wander are lost.” – J.R.R. Tolkien
Ahhh Tolkien, author of the echo of the incessant nomad. We defend ourselves in this quote, the wandering, carefree, roaming travelers. If not, we are “running away”, “hiding”, or “lost”. Those addicted to routine, hidden behind statues of finance that dictate how money is allotted, with travel listed as a non-priority, these sweet regular folk can’t perceive the how or why. Some envy us, others judge us. The pictures aren’t big enough and you can’t smell geography. You have to GO yourself to understand why we expedition junkies must gallivant extravagant itineraries, why we must submerge in foreign cultures just to grasp what human really is, and our suffocating need to breathe so much pure oxygen in untouched landscapes. Honestly, YES, sometimes I do run or hide but rarely am I lost. If ever I am, it’s certainly the best way to be found. Most of the time I am running, though, it is to, not from. It is to explore. It is to discover. It is to unearth. It is to grow. Every time I roam I ascend. I conquer fears and disappointments. I vanquish the confusion produced from the western daily grind. I go to and I get my damn priorities straight, effortlessly, as I witness exquisite beauty from coastlines to kinsfolk. I wander and I am found.
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