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Finances in order? Check. All material possessions you’re likely to use on a world trip purchased? Check. Career position at a point I can return to? Check. But wait, there’s something missing, something wrong.

Where did I mis-place my passion and, more importantly, where did my desire sneak off to? Ah, yes, it got comfortable.

Most of our life, we’re programmed to operate in a world where existence isn’t meant to be a rolling sea of comfort. A gentle swell and a warm breeze are things to be earned for a very short period each year and even then, they are controlled to an extent by the organizers, who feel the need to herd touristic masses. Why is this? Is our torment and reflex of needing some hurdle to cross or some wall to push against a result of selective shepherding; is it a wired-in counter to the environment we’ve built? Maybe we just don’t know any better.

There is a thought that as a species, we are explorers and have a need to keep exploring. The older I get, the more aware I become that we’re not so much explorers, snarling at the bit and wrapping reigns of command around new lands, but more akin to lonely orphans who are forever searching for their true parental species and an answer to why they are here.

Looking at my travel list, I’m suddenly forced to recognize my own preoccupation with exploration. My heart sinks a little as the realization then hits me that I’m just keeping my mind busy and not attempting to single out what I ultimately want from all this. At that point, I closed the browser window and stopped further consideration of everywhere I can travel next. I have travel decisions to make but I’ll be damned if they are going to be made as the by-product of mental distraction.

I am not content with the mould of life we’ve been poured into.

We are gifted with incredible intellect and awareness.

Life is infinitely short in the grand scheme of things and is a disgrace to waste.

Make choices that have meaning, not just distraction.