If this document had a mirror, you would see me blushing.
As I prepare this post, I see my years of guilt of trying to plan the epic American road trip. Can I see New England in a week? Surprisingly, yes. But you are either skipping a lot or rushing through everything, still thinking of what was missed or where you needed more time.
I want to say I have experienced all 50 states. Not a small feat. It is easier, though, if you didn’t try to hit every roadside attraction along the way.
For a mother of a family that would rather zone out at the beach or pool, I am constantly leading the charge: “One more stop!”
My kids feel anxious and overwhelmed while I collapse at the Airbnb, resting up for dawn to drive to the next site. Or maybe it’s the 5 am flight that requires arriving 3 hours early, in a time zone ahead.
I have lived the phrase, “I need a vacation from my vacation.”
Then Monday arrives. I show up to work discombobulated; laundry piled high, already behind.
Once again … blushing.
In my defense, life is short. The world is full of amazing places and adventures, and I want to see them all. I actually have never regretted any of it. But I do think I could be more considerate of my kids. My answer has always been, “You can sleep in the car.” Or the plane. Or wherever we happened to be.
Why do we feel the need to maximize everything?
Is it necessary to see all the highlights of western Europe on a trip?
I have often told myself, “What if I never come this way again?”
The statement sounds dramatic. But we all have our version of it.
Some people are advancing their careers.
Some are nurturing their health prepping for their later years.
Some securing their legacy.
Mine is collecting places and stories.
Social media probably doesn’t help. Everybody posts the perfect image: coffee on the beach, the gorgeous pool, the whole family together in matching shirts. It all looks effortless, like they planned early and got the perfect deal.
Maybe that could be you.
We love the beauty of travel. The way it expands our horizons, just like the explorers before us.
But we rarely talk about other parts.
Security lines.
TSA.
Current logistics.
Reservations.
Check in time.
Check out time.
An entire list of rules that no one gets to ignore.
As much as we like to imagine ourselves free spirits, we can’t escape any of them.
And if we are honest, it’s exhausting.
This is why airports have bars and massage chairs.
We say we travel for adventure.
Deep sea fishing.
Snorkeling.
Wandering the markets of Marrakesh.
Every sense is alive.
We go for restoration, even if we never say it aloud.
Even business travel carries a secret thrill. The office continues without you while you meet a supplier in New York, London, Singapore … or Duluth.
Your schedule is uprooted.
But you are not in the office.
Maybe the real problem isn’t that we travel too much.
It’s that we rarely travel without understanding what we actually need.
Sometimes our nervous system needs stillness.
Sometimes we need awe.
Sometimes we need perspective.
Sometimes we need grounding.
We design trips like productivity projects.
Maximize the itinerary. Hit the highlights. Capture the photos. Move on to the next destination.
What if the question wasn’t:
Where should I go next?
What if the question was:
What kind of place would actually restore me right now?
Not exhausted.
Not overwhelmed.
But restored.
But restoration works differently. The nervous system needs space. The mind needs room to wander. The body needs time to settle into a place long enough to actually feel it.
This is why I believe travel should be aligned with what your spirit actually needs.
Sometimes we need water destinations that calm the nervous system.
Sometimes we need earth landscapes that ground us.
Sometimes we need fire landscapes that awaken courage.
And sometimes we need air destinations that give us perspective.
This is why I organize travel based on four elements.
What if the goal of travel wasn’t to collect places.
What if it was to return with more of yourself.
