It hit me today – wanderlust.
That bone-deep longing. That desire to go, to explore, to be in a wild new place. I felt a distinct sense of grief that I’m missing out on something that is happening somewhere. That somewhere, at that moment there is a breathtakingly beautiful display of nature’s unassuming beauty. Or a group of people showing ultimate kindness and service to each other. Or any one of many, many miracles being manifested right now.
I don’t know what brings on these acute wanderlust attacks. Sometimes my wanderlust is inspired by what is in front of me in the form of a book, or travel show, or an inspiring conversation. Other times I am struck by it out of the blue. I think that these types of moments are the most remarkable, the most amazing. They are stronger and I feel it all the way to my core. It’s not a type of jealousy that someone, somewhere, is doing what I want to do like I might feel when watching a show on the Travel Channel, or reading the latest from a travel blogger. It’s not a desire to escape my current surroundings or situation.
It’s more than that.
I believe it is a knowing – knowing that something is happening somewhere. Something beautiful and awe-inspiring and great. It can bring with it a powerful sense of loss because I am missing…..something. It’s a lost opportunity to witness that miracle, whatever that miracle may be. And lost opportunities can bring on some of the heaviest grief.
Then the moment passes. I’m not weakened by it, rather, I take strength from it. It reaffirms my belief that there is always, ALWAYS something good and beautiful and right in the world.
And that is what makes this whole crazy journey of life worth it.
