Somewhere, at sometime, someone once said something around the lines of, “When you travel, you leave bits and pieces of yourself behind.”
This saying rings true with most travelers, and it has for me especially.
When I first began traveling less than 2 years ago, I had no clue what to expect. The world was my oyster now it seemed, but for my entire life it had been closed off. I had no clue if it would bear treasure, or leave a bad taste in my mouth.
Then, something spectacular happened. I took my first step. Just as magical as it is to see a baby make its first attempts at walking upright, so too it felt the same for me as I attempted to walk out into the world.
Even if traveling meant stumbling and falling on my face.
Suddenly I was on a train across the United States, then I was on a plane to New Zealand. Like a babe taking its first steps, my hands were up in the air and forward momentum carried me along.
I didn’t want the adventure to stop.
Now it’s been a little under two years, and I am 3 countries in so far. Yeah, not a great amount right? Well, anything above one is a big deal for me.
First was New Zealand; that ravishing adventure land full of heart-pounding experiences. Then came Haiti; a mis-represented country hidden below a surface of disaster, and full of heart-wrenching discovery. And now
— now I am in Canada on a road trip, a country so close to “home” yet so different than I ever imagined.
And in each of these countries I left a bit of myself behind. Where I leave these pieces behind, they may live in that area, or be carried away by someone which that memory was with. Attached to an experience, or a smile, or a feat, or a moment where time felt as if it was standing still.
Standing still just so I could know it was something to cherish.
After the turmoils of my childhood; my mother’s suicide and father’s passing, I felt for years that I didn’t have any more pieces to give. My life had been a pretty picture which had fallen off the wall and shattered into little bits.
Sometimes, leaving pieces of yourself behind with the places you go and people you meet can be an emotional thing. A feeling like a potential love, friendship, or opportunity is being left behind. But I think of it as bread crumbs, a trail that can lead me back to that moment or place again.
Even though every place I will go I will leave pieces of myself there, traveling always gives me something much more in return.
// Have you experienced this when traveling?