Actually... I Am Running.

A lot of the time we travelers have the wrap of being unrealistic dreamers that are running away from something in life. Actually, people usually think we’re running away from life itself. Or reality. Or both.

Ok, usually both.

Because if we aren’t running away from something, then why on Earth would we opt to live out of a backpack, smell poorly, be poor, and spend so much of our time unsure of where we’re going to be/sleep the next week, month, or more? Why would we choose to move from place to place, not put down deeper roots, and constantly be taking flight? Why would we decide we’d rather live a life of uncertainty, when there are so many clear-cut, safe paths we could choose from that seem to work for so many others? Why would someone elect a somewhat directionless and seemingly future-less lifestyle in lieu of a sure fire shot at stability? I mean really, who basically chooses not to have health care, yet puts themselves at risk of disease and infection regularly? In order to choose all of this, you’ve really got to be running from something… Right!?!

Not necessarily.

I know a lot of travelers, and would say most of the people I’ve become friends with in the last three or four years could be placed somewhere on the gypsy spectrum. I know many people that travel most of the year, and even more that have moved away from their families, friends and home countries for extended periods of time (or with no “trip” end in sight). The list of those that work for somewhat menial pay in exchange for living somewhere else is long, and I’d say that many, if not most, are definitely not running away from reality and/or “adult” life. If nothing else, they are running (we’re talking an all-out sprint here) not away from life, but very much towards it. Or at least one version of it.

They’re running towards a life full of meaning (whatever they choose that to be for themselves, as we all are able to do), not money. They’re running towards the thrill of the unknown, and chance to live fully out of faith. They’re running towards newness and a chance to explore themselves in different, sometimes extreme ways. And they’re running towards the life that makes them feel the most alive. And while I definitely am someone running towards all that, there is most certainly another truth to it…

For a long time I tried to believe I wasn’t running away from reality, and that everyone who thought so just didn’t really understand what I was doing, but it’s time to come clean with myself and all of you. These months at home have given me ample time to reflect, and I’ve come to actually accept some brutal truths about myself.

One of them is this: When it comes right down it, when I take flight, I am actually running.

• I’m running away from the person I am when I get too comfortable.

• I’m running away from the me I become when the novelty of something wears off.

• I’m running away from the thoughts that fill my mind when there isn’t enough new stimulation surrounding (distracting) me.

• I’m running away from the way I get when I learn too much and become a little too wise.

• I’m running away from complacency, familiarity, and normalcy.

• I’m running away from a life lived in the box for fear it won’t fulfill me.

• I’m running away from society’s expectations and imposing views.

• I’m running away from doing what everyone else is doing.

• I’m running away from feeling like a caged-in animal.

• I’m running away from traffic, 9-5’s, cookie cutter neighborhoods, and consumerism.

• I’m running away from placing concern on how much is in my bank account, versus how much is in my heart.

• I’m running away from conforming, because I already did that for way too long.

• But perhaps above all, I’m really running away from myself, because I am fearful of who I am, and what I’m capable of.

And before I really dive into this, I’d like to clarify something... I’ve lived that life in the box before. I’ve gone to uni, gotten a job at a fortune 100 company, and could have easily climbed the ladder to a very successful place within that world. I started to put in roots, had a routine, rented an apartment, made the commute, and lived that expected life. It was a wonderful life, one I know many desire, but it was not the right track for me. So when I talk about running away from cookie cutter neighborhoods, 9-5’s, and consumerism, it’s not because I am degrading all of that or trying to say it’s lifeless and bad. I just have been there, done that, and know for a fact it’s not the way I’m supposed to live. It didn’t feel right, and everything inside of me screamed regularly to let me know it. But like I said, this is just a piece of what I’m running away from when I take off to a new country or place. It’s only one side of my sprinting story.

When I get really real with myself, I know that I am absolutely, definitely, 100% running away from any situation that could cause me to become the me I do not like or want to be. The me I can try to hide and deny so long as I don’t seem to get too comfortable or familiar with where I am or who I’m around. When I decide it’s time to take flight again, it’s because my insides are starting to stir, my energy is in a flurry, and I feel like I’m going crazy, about to burst.

I do not like the person I am when I get too comfortable. My attitude of gratitude wavers, I begin to get bored, criticism kicks in, the novelty wears off, and my rose colored lenses are gone. I go beyond simple, introductory knowledge of a person/place/culture, and as I gain more knowledge, insight, and understanding, I turn into a critical person, often with an inflated ego. I realize that people and places fall short of initial expectation (aka that they are flawed, because hello, we all are), and begin to grow disappointed. (Something I’m clearly aware of and have been working on for a long time, because I’ll never be able to be properly happy so long as I allow this any control in my life.) These are the things I loathe about myself, and the things I run away from. I run away so I can prevent it, so I can leave with only the sweetest memories, and so I don’t turn into a royal betch.

I’ve been aware of this self-truth for a very long time, and have been working on it throughout my conscious years, but it’s hard not to fear it as a possibility when I think about past outcomes, and see the same tendencies within my family. So when I take off to a new place, sometimes I’m not just running, I am quite literally sprinting away from one version of myself. I’m trying to leave myself behind, as if a new location means I’ve somehow hit the refresh button. Of course there is so much more to it than just this (as I slightly outlined above), but I’ve come to accept this is actually a very real and relevant part of what’s going on with me.

So yes, to all of you that look at people like me and say we’re running away from something, we are. It might not be life or reality, but we are most definitely running away from something. And for me, a lot of the time, I think that means myself.