The Feeling of Adventure

I am in awe of airplanes. I went to my city’s airport twice this year before it was my turn to get on a plane to travel. I was left with this craving to watch planes land and take off as I saw them, then, through morning gold light and tall window panes. I still crave that image despite my recent trip to Mexico.

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This post isn’t about Mexico’s food or its landmarks. It’s about a wisdom I bring back from there.  (I brought back wisdom to munch on for the rest of the year.) What I want to talk about is the feeling of adventure. (For context, you should know, that I was visiting family.) And even though I wasn’t a tourist, I still felt this sense of adventure.

I walked my aunt to a bus stop, I found all the required checkpoints at the airport, I ate in a Mexican restaurant, and I walked outside and inside a famous catholic church. Despite my knowing of the language, I felt like a stranger. And my sense of curiosity was still there, despite the differences in lifestyle. (I threw up once because of the way one drives there. To put it simply, the driving isn’t organized and has more curve than the driving I’m used to.)

In her book The Little Book on Meaning, Laura Berman Fortgang writes, “If our goal was to feel bliss, reverence, or love versus to achieve this or that marker of worldly success…how would that feel? How would the journey change?” I came back from Mexico rejuvenated spiritually, and I want to hold on to that feeling of adventure. My hermit mentality has been lifted, and I want to be everywhere but home.

How does adventure feel? I find adventure when I don’t know how every event of the day is going to play out. When I walked through the streets of my grandparent’s neighborhood, I didn’t know the north of my compass like I usually do. Houses there are in colors: lime sherbet and cotton candy pinks and blues. Even the cable satellites are colorful.

  I find adventure when I don’t know how every event of the day is going to play out.

As we arrived at my grandparent’s house on one of my last days there, I recognized the windows of one house on the street. The windows of the houses in that neighborhood have different designs, and I was surprised to finally recognize the neighborhood this way. I thought to myself: if I stay long enough here, I will memorize people, their homes, and their rituals.

So maybe the feeling adventure stops when there’s nothing left to know. 

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My name is Andrea. I am a reader, a writer, and a life-long learner. Welcome. 

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