Traveling is always an adventure for me. I never know what it will bring. Often my mind escapes into some vision of happy ever after. It loves to vagabond to beautiful, perfect fantasies.
As I get older and learn to watch the scenario of my mind and the play of my ego,
I recognize the pattern. As soon as I revel in my bright imagination, I hear the dark voice: “Your bed at home is much more comfortable” or “those pillows are terrible!” “Why are you here?”
Between the warm sand and the creaky bed is where I grow. In that space, I question, “Why do I love traveling?” The answer is: traveling is a great teacher for me.
I encounter my dreaded zone of discomfort and learn to befriend it. To my surprise,
I always survive!