Shirts? Check. Bug Spray? Check. Swimsuit? Check. I’m sure I’m forgetting something…
Pacing the floor, I scan the room one last time. There you are! Silly adapter. The art of packing is never easy, second guessing every move, every thought, every item as you replay your check list over and over again in your head.
Deep breath. 1…2…3…Exhale.
Everything still seems surreal. You’ve been dreaming about this moment for months and the time has finally arrived. 10 weeks. South East Asia and Nepal. You’ve done your research and have defaced your travel book with all the places you want to see. Different colours spread across the pages as the regal Golden Budda welcomes you, the emerald waters of Ha Long Bay call your name, and the jungles of Malaysia whisper in the winds. You’re enticed and nothing can stop you from exploring every inch of these mysterious lands. Angkor Wat’s grandeur size intimidates you and the rickety boats of Laos bring you an odd peace but nothing excites you more then the burst of sea water splashing against your face as you ride the surf in Bali. Or the trek through the mountains of Nepal, working with local Nepalese doctors providing medical care to the villagers in the mountains.
What if I’m making a huge mistake? What if I go and everything just falls apart?
The doubt creeps into the back of your mind but you brush it away as quickly as it entered. Whenever you leave to a new place, there is always a risk. A risk that it won’t meet your expectations. That something horrible will happen. But that’s what makes it so interesting. That’s what makes it an adventure. There’s beauty in chaos. In the unknown, the what-ifs, the leaps of faith. They are all stories that comprise the pages of a passport.
Take one last look around the room. Your passport sits comfortably on top of the backpack that doubles as your home for the next ten weeks. Your heart is racing and your mind is at peace. This is where you’re meant to be.
Deep breath. 1…2…3… Exhale.
It feels good to be lost in the right direction.