A few weeks ago in Hpa-An, Burma, I was walking down Mount Zwegabin after sleeping on the floor of a monastery at the summit. It was just after dawn, and the claustrophobic heat of the day had yet to take hold. I was alone, and it was completely, almost eerily silent as I made my way to the valley below. Suddenly, I became overwhelmed – as in, tears pouring down my face overwhelmed – by how lucky I was to be there. After so much saving and wanting and wishing, I was almost two years into a round-the-world trip and have never been happier. To say “I want to save up money, quit my job and see the world – not to find myself, not to check off destinations from a list, but to soak it all up like a sponge” is one thing. To do all those things and then love every second of it (despite many ailments!) is a whole other realm of happy. Of all the wonderful consequences of my adventure, my uncontainable joy is the best of all. It has been extremely satisfying to have embarked on a voyage of this magnitude and to have been spot on about what I thought would drive me to continue travelling.
So why did I quit to travel around the world?
During the course of this trip, one of the most frequent questions I receive from home is why – really why – did I give it all up to travel around the world. What prompted my departure? Was this a last ditch attempt to avoid growing up? Wasn’t vacation, something normal people take to escape, sufficient to satiate my vagabonding dreams? Conversely, when I am travelling the people I meet want to know whether I plan on going home at all, and if so, why. They want to understand the density of purposes that keeps me moving from one place to the next and the abiding longing for somewhere else that I just cannot shake. Also? They want to know what they ought to eat dinner, and where. It’s an interesting dichotomy.
Until recently, I never contemplated a post explaining why I chose to quit my job and travel. My close friends and my family understood my motivations, and ultimately that was what mattered. However, as the two-year anniversary of my departure rolls into view, more and more people have asked me what catalyzed the decision to take that first step. Most make the natural assumption that, weighted down by a contract-filled existence, I got burned out and finally left to travel. While that would make for a great story, it’s actually the opposite of what happened: I left because travelling around the world was something I dreamed of doing for years, and with the passage of time the trip had morphed from a want into a need.
When I was still in high school, the PBS did a documentary on the Trans-Siberian trains. I became a little obsessed with the documentary, and then with the trains themselves, and then with the idea of going there and riding them myself. But why stop there? Soon, I was set on travelling around the world, with the Trans-Sib as a small but critical part of my overall journey. If the stubborn roots of this trip can be traced to one influence in my life, that documentary is it. For your viewing pleasure, it’s actually available on YouTube – quality of film is not what I remembered.
My dreams of round-the-world travel percolated under the surface as one year dissolved into the next. Next thing I knew, someone bet me I couldn’t get into law school and with Canadian tuition being so reasonable, I saw only benefits arising from my acceptance of McGill’s offer. It is a great school and a legal education seemed like an interesting path to access a whole new way of thinking – even if I did not plan on practicing law forever. I was fortunate enough to secure a job offer in New York City and start my career with colleagues who proved to be extraordinary mentors and clients who often became friends. Despite the fact that most of the other lawyers in my firm had their law degrees on their office walls, I put up four 8×10 pictures of prior adventures – reminders of my eventual goal. Almost 6 years of lawyering later, I had saved enough to quit for an indefinite period, setting aside what I felt comfortable spending without a real timeline in place. When I gave notice, a partner at the firm finally asked me where my degrees were, and I sheepishly admitted that they were under my bed, gathering dust.
Was quitting to travel worth it?
And so here I am in Thailand, almost two years of travel later. I am a happier, more relaxed person with thousands of stories and pictures from some of the more fascinating places on earth. The long-anticipated Trans-Siberian trains proved to be a wonderful, often hilarious and fascinating way to arrive in Asia, and have remained a highlight overall. I have also realized that vacation is insufficient to sustain my travel needs; I need to immerse myself more thoroughly to satisfy my desire to learn about a new place. And I have come to love Asia more than I ever expected, from the street food to the people to the millions of small, quirky things that make each and every day a smile-inducing adventure. The overriding feeling is that all of this – the crazy bus rides, the dirt, the many mountains to climb and all the glorious food – just feels right.
How lucky is that?