We all have this kind of desire to go to places – places wonderful that we often see in movies, and pictures. We dream of travelling because we feel that being in a place like the romantic Venice and the suburbs of Africa would somewhat give us the feeling, that same feeling that we always see when we watch movies and listen to the people who had been there. We always have this urge to visit a certain place after we read a travelogue and realize how wonderful that place can be.
They’ve been to New York, and to Venice, and to the Middle East. They’ve been to Germany, to Russia, and to China. They’ve got all what it takes to be there – money, and of course, wanderlust.
The sad thing, though, is that we realize when we get to those places that what we have watched and read were not exactly the same things we’re bound to experience. Yes, places may be beautiful but there is something missing.
There are people who go to places and realize the perfection of being there because of a secret, a secret we often overlook as we travel towards our dreams, and desires. The desire to travel may be totally perfect idea, but have you ever imagined travelling alone? Let’s not confuse what I’m saying with people who enjoy being alone as they walk by the shores and look for inspiration, people who climb mountain and feel fulfillment. Because that is what they think will make them happy, which eventually, will do.
But the thing is, trying to do what these people love doing, either you end up loving what you are doing, or regretting of following the footsteps of that person, because we just got envious that they could afford to enjoy travelling.
We were created differently, and we crave for different things. Setting aside the concept of soul mate, we always end up desiring something personal that’ll distinguish us from others. Because there are no two persons who are the same, and not everything that makes the other happy will make you happy as well. It’s all a matter of identity and personal perception of happiness.
In my case, I have wanderlust. I wanted to visit New York and experience the hyped life. I wanted to set my steps in Ohio, in Norway, in Denmark, in Canada, in California and in San Francisco, to see how my relatives are doing and to experience that kind of life they’ve been living for years. I wanted to visit Rome, and meet the Pope, and see for myself the wonders that my religion has set for me. I wanted to see the rest of Asia, and the world, without knowing what lies ahead of me just because I have this desire to know how other people live. We vary, and learning different cultures seem impossible in a lifetime like this. But its what my wanderlust prepares me for.
But atop all of these, travelling around the globe won’t bring me happiness, I’m certain of this. Because I know what will complement this wanderlust – people I love. I wanted to visit Ohio, and Norway, and Denmark, and Canada, and California, and San Francisco to be with the people I love to be with the relatives I so long to be with. And so what if they don’t live in posh houses, and can’t tour me round the town because of their busy rounds at work. And so what if I’d stay in their place, mainly looking around, learning how they live. And so what if all I have to do is sit on the couch, or dine with them and just chat about our lives. That is what I looked forward to anyway.
I wanted to visit Europe, and Asia, and almost all the continents. But I couldn’t have made it alone. I sure wanted to bring my father, or my mother, or any of my siblings along. In case they are not available, I have more than a dozen cousins, and pairs of uncles and aunts. I’ve got a huge set of high school barkada, and the perfect choice of college friends, who for sure will have fun, because we will know, and we will realize that what we actually wanted to do is to spend time with the people we love in whatever place we may be. The beauty of the place is just a bonus of the more important thing, time with people dear to us.
In this world where you can’t progress by merely sitting, and enjoying a cup of coffee and a good book, finding time with people we love is a simple joy that’d give us fulfillment.
In all honesty, I’d really love to travel round the globe. But I could do that with money, and more time. For the mean time, I find this wanderlust by going home during weekends and being with my family. We’d go to mass in the morning, get lazy and talk about random stuff, eat lunch together, have fun, just bond and spend some time we seldom have because of the busy-bees that we are made to be.
I would not exchange being with my college friends, eating together to a place we call Lovelite, talking about books, school, family, and whatever random topic we have in our minds. I’d laugh out loud to all the jokes, and all the fun as we savor the last few months of being together in a university. And it would be another perfect wanderlust, going to one place or another, near or far, just to catch up right after we finish college and find the jobs we need to reach our dreams.
The perfect moment with high school friends is just being together in somebody else’s house or car, or some random fast food joint or coffee shops near the town, recalling our happiest high school days, and soggiest high school moments. We’d recall the craziness, and immaturity, and all the stuff we’ve been through after we separated several years ago. And then we realize we still click, no matter what.
More than anything else, my wanderlust involves the people dear to me, because they are the ones that make me a person, a person distinguishable to anybody else. One day, maybe, just maybe, we’ll all have the money and travel wherever we want with the people we love, and that’d be my perfect travel that I would not exchange for the world.