Oh, the places I have been.

I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world. Mary Ann Radmacher

In less than a week now, I will board a plane to Italy. To say that I am excited would be an understatement. I am fortunate in that my life has involved a fair amount of travel – both internationally and nationally. I went to England and France just before entering high-school; to Galway, Ireland for a semester in college; to New Zealand with my family in 2017; to Chamonix one summer for endless hikes in the Alps. With COVID-19, getting overseas during these last two years was difficult. As a result, I am more than ready for this trip…I have been bitten by that travel bug. 

As I look back upon my travels abroad, I see now that a few of them occurred during pivotal moments in my life. And with every new country that I have visited, a little piece of me shifts and I grow. Traveling seems to have that effect. We are shown a new way of existing in this world, exposed to ideas, practices and cultures that we hadn’t before considered. We filter through these, choosing the pieces that fit or resonate with us, and then letting go of the rest. Each trip results in new lessons. If we are to partake in even just a little self-reflection, we don’t return the same.

Sancerre, France – 2006

Just before my first trip to France (and actually, my first trip to Europe) I had begun therapy for an eating disorder. I was 14 and trying to force my body into the shape I felt was most desirable and appropriate for a long-distance runner. During our initial sessions, my therapist had exposed me to the concept of intuitive eating – a focus on nurturing and trusting the body to make food choices that feel good for you, free of judgment. Where better to explore food that I found both nourishing and enjoyable than in France?

While I did spend a few days in Paris, it was the small town of Sancerre that I remember most. In this town, restaurants and shops closed between 3-8pm allowing a reprieve and a period of connection within the home. Rest was a norm. I walked everywhere, as the town square hosted boulangeries, fromageries and supermarches. No need for large cars or shopping carts. Food could be picked up daily, and this was encouraged. We cooked at home most nights, and labels touting calories and nutrients were almost nonexistent. Life slowed and narrowed; there was a simplicity I was unaccustomed to. I was able to tune into my body in a way that before had seemed inaccessible; to trust it. 

Lesson: In this place of simplicity, there is expansion. 

Galway, Ireland – 2013

My junior year of college I studied abroad for a semester in Galway, Ireland. About a month prior to me leaving though, my training as a collegiate level runner was brought to an abrupt halt. I’d been diagnosed with a stress fracture in my Ischium, likely a result of being undernourished. Feeling a bit lost without my identity as a runner to turn to, the trip couldn’t have come at a better time. 

Ireland is such a beautiful country – more green than I’d ever seen. And there is an intense appreciation for nature amongst the people, a spiritual connection to the Earth that provides to us. Festivities abound with live music being played in pubs nightly, and students skipping class to imbibe in a pint of Guinness. Schedules and deadlines were nonexistent as the whole country is extremely relaxed around the concept of time. 

It was in Ireland I began to experience what it was like to loosen my grip on life, to surrender to the moment. 

Lesson: There is value in coloring outside of the lines. 

New Zealand – 2017

In the spring of 2016, I was supposed to take a trip to Australia with a friend of mine. We had our plane tickets purchased and a running google doc of all the places we hoped to see. But in March of that same year, I was diagnosed with Stage III Cancer and a plane ride to a foreign country was off the docket.

Spring turned to summer and summer turned to fall, and in November I finished chemotherapy and there were no signs of any lingering cancer. I was free to travel once more. My brother’s semester abroad in New Zealand provided me with the perfect opportunity to do so. 

Once school had let out and summer vacation lay before me, I hopped on a plane to the other side of the world, this time with my parents. New Zealand was the first, and only, trip that my family had taken internationally together – adding a new level of sentiment to the experience. 

Of all the places I’ve been, New Zealand is probably my favorite. Summer in the United States meant winter in the Southern Hemisphere. Our trip included hikes through the coastal town of Christchurch and snow camping outside of Queenstown. New Zealand is a country of great vitality. So much of it feels untouched…untarnished by the needy hand of man. The people of New Zealand are incredibly friendly and welcoming – it is a place where you don’t think twice about sticking your thumb up for a ride. 

For myself, still raw from the slap in the face that is a cancer diagnosis, New Zealand was a reminder of the vitality within me. It was bungee jumping off of a 439 foot platform towards a rocky river bed below, eating the largest (and most delicious) hamburger at Fergburger, and going on a bar crawl with my Dad, brother and (now) sister in law. It was saying yes to what life has to offer. 

Lesson: Life is both deep sorrow and immense joy – we hold room for both. 

I am fortunate in that life has afforded me many opportunities and reasons to travel. And there are more trips I’d have loved to include here – time in Chamonix, a solo in Barcelona, Rome with my best friend, and a weekend in Mexico to name a few. With each trip, my eyes open just a little bit wider, a new blossom appearing on the rosebush that is my life. Traveling changes you, and the more open to this you are, the more profound the change.

I am eager to see what I discover about myself through my upcoming time in Italy, what new ideas, practices, and culture I integrate into my own way of being. 

And you – what has traveling brought you? How has it impacted your life?

Take some time with these questions; your answers may surprise you. No matter how far away, or the duration of your trip, traveling has a way of changing us all.

“We travel because distance and difference are the secret tonic of creativity. When we get home, home is the same, but something inside our minds has changed and that changes everything.” Jonah Lehrer