My paternal grandfather travelled to France once, and my paternal grandmother to Japan. My maternal grandmother saw Hong Kong and Singapore. And my mother has seen Japan and China and most of the USA.
It’s one reason I’m not surprised that this wanderlusting has been etched into my skin and blood (probably even before I was born).
It’s one reason I’m not surprised that for the past five months I have felt a restlessness that comes from feeling stuck at home, feeling like I’ve been in one place for too long.
And it hurts sometimes to stare at a map and realize how little I’ve seen, how little I’ve experienced. With graduation around the corner I am faced with the question of: “What are you going to do with your life?”
Truthfully, I don’t know. I have no idea what I want to do or where I want to be or what field I should choose to go in. All I know is that if someone paid me to travel I’d be happy.
And I say it every single time to every single person that asks.
For so long (and exchange probably didn’t help that fact either), I have had this strong urge to leave, to see, to do. All I ever thought of was leaving my mark somewhere on some foreign lands, in some Amazonian jungle, or even amongst the waves of a distant beach.
Sometimes I look at my parents and wonder if they ever have that same itch, that same need to flee from their day-to-day routines. And I wonder why they don’t, how they do it – go day in and day out. And then it hit me.
I have a serious case of wanderlust, of creating a bigger, brighter, and better life for myself, leaving footprints all over this world.
But I seem to forget all the, just as, important tiny steps I take every single day (yes, I have size five feet…they really are tiny – pun intended).
I sometimes forget that every single step I take is a mark left behind – no matter how small, no matter where it is. Whether that step is behind a desk, or in a classroom, or at a part-time job, it’s a step.
We are where we are, at this moment, because that’s where we’re meant to be. It may not be exotic or foreign or different, but it’s just as important. It is your mark.
Make the most of it.