Five Months of Travel — Let the Wisdom Unravel

In a week’s time, the world trip I set out on five months ago is going to come to an end — the perfect time to reflect on the lessons I’ve learned.

Luxury Without Meaning Feels Cheap

A bigger house. A faster car. A nicer watch.
Getting new possessions is great fun — they make you feel phenomenal instantly.
But somehow, that feeling of “better” fades as fast as it arrives.
After two months, your car loses its new-car smell and becomes what it’s always been: the vehicle that gets you from point A to point B.
The house becomes nothing more than the place you sleep.
The new watch gets old — and tells you it's about time to buy something new.

Don’t get me wrong — I love nice things.
But I was miserable in a beautiful hotel room and overjoyed sleeping in a six-bed dormitory before. And yet, I was also feeling great at a five-star hotel and wished for the sweet release of death while the guy in the bunk next to me wouldn’t stop farting.

Material things have an impact — but they’re not everything.

“Ever more people today have the means to live, but no meaning to live for.”
— Viktor Frankl

Material things must carry meaning, otherwise even diamonds feel like plastic.
If you already have meaning, bring it with you.
If you don’t, search for it.
And if you can’t find it — create it.

Kindness and Cruelty Speak Every Language

I’m sprinting laps around my car. It’s humid and hot outside — but not as scorching as the fury building inside of me. For the past three minutes, I’ve tried and failed to open the gas lid of my rental car. It also doesn’t help that I’m in a country I’ve never been to before. It’s tough navigating Northern Australia — even tougher when you’re about to run out of gas.

Just when all hope seems lost, the lady from the gas station walks over to me.

She simply asks, “Rental?”
I laugh and nod my head. This eases the feeling of being the stupidest person on the planet a bit. My cheeks flush — not from anger, but embarrassment. There are other people around who semi-witnessed my debacle. The lady seems to know them and calls them over. Before I know it, three strangers are doing everything in their power to help me. In the end, we find the lever and the gas lid pops open. (In my defense: it was very well hidden.)

I thank my saviors from Down Under and continue my journey in the Toyota Prius that almost bested me.

I’ve had similar experiences not just in Australia, but all over the world — people who go out of their way to help you out of a pinch.

But I also experienced the complete opposite — people who go out of their way to make your day as horrible as possible.

No matter where you are, you’ll find great and horrible people alike. It’s your responsibility to find the former.

Decide. Decide. Decide.

Traveling is one of the greatest and most tiresome activities I’ve ever done. You constantly have to make decisions.

Where to next?
Where am I going to sleep?
How am I going to get there?

You have to answer these questions on an almost daily basis. Great questions to have — but they need answering nonetheless. And this can get tiresome after a while.

But it teaches a valuable lesson:
It’s better to make the wrong decision and course-correct than to make no decision at all.

Relaxation Refuels Others — It Rusts Me

Waves of deep blue crash right in front of me into the golden beach I’m standing on. But rust builds inside my mind. For the past two days, I’ve tried to just sit on the beach and do nothing at all.

I’m in paradise — but I feel like I’m in hell.

What relaxation looks like for others is pure agony to me. I learned that I need to give my mind something to do — otherwise it creates problems that don’t exist.

Yes, I already meditate. And yes, I know I’m not my thoughts — thanks for not asking.

What recharges the batteries of other people drains mine. Doing something interesting isn’t just excitement — it’s relaxation to me.

Boredom is a great tool for creativity. But for me, I like to experience it in short bursts — not in extended periods of mind-fabricated agony.

“The opposite of love is indifference, and the opposite of happiness is — here’s the clincher — boredom. Excitement is the more practical synonym for happiness, and it is precisely what you should strive to chase. It is the cure-all.”
— Tim Ferriss

New Backpack, Same Baggage

Because I want to look like the real deal, I buy myself a new backpack. One that doesn’t leave any doubt that I’m a true backpacker. I get stares from people at the airport (hello there, spotlight effect). Everybody else has suitcases. They’re going on vacation — I’m going on an adventure.

After a semi-horrible flight experience (that surely wasn’t caused by the drunk guy in the back shouting for his friend every three minutes), I arrive at my destination.

There I stand — in a place I’ve never been before, with my new backpack.
But the baggage in my mind is still the same.

“It is your mind, rather than circumstances themselves, that determines the quality of your life.”
— Sam Harris

Trying to run away from your problems is like getting a head start on Usain Bolt in a 100-meter sprint: sounds fun and exciting, but you already know he’s going to catch up.

Don’t think you’ll be in constant bliss just because you go somewhere.
Changing location can help — but it won’t solve anything on its own.
You need to put in conscious effort to change your mental state.

“The easiest way to escape from a problem is to solve it.”
— Alan Saporta

As I stated before: it’s possible to be in the most beautiful place on the planet and still be miserable.
For your life to change, your mind needs to change — not just your surroundings.

Same Departure Gate, Different Destinations

Finding yourself has enormous positive impact — but there are also darker sides to it.
Because by finding yourself, you will lose others.
This happens when you start to outgrow people.

It’s scary to outgrow people — but scarier not to grow at all.

The term “outgrowing” can sound like you're saying you’re better than someone else. But that’s not necessarily true. Both sides of the relationship can grow — just in different directions.

The best-case scenario is that you grow toward your goals. If the other person has different aspirations and dreams, it’s only natural that your paths may branch off toward different destinations. That might be hard to accept — but it’s also beautiful.

That’s why we should cherish the time we have with people. We never know when the last time we ever spend with each other will be.

But there’s also the more sinister side of this process.

Not all people will be happy with you changing.
Change is frightening to most.
That’s why they’d prefer it if you stayed in the little box they built for you.

But what if you don’t fit in this box anymore?

Every time they try to stuff you back in, you bleed on the corners.

And because you don’t want to bleed every time you meet them, you have a choice to make:

• Betray who you’ve become
• ...or walk away

I recommend the latter.

If people only tolerate a version of you that isn’t the real you, you’re not only lying to yourself — you’re lying to them too.

Doing that will hurt. It might even hurt more than bleeding from them trying to force you into your old self.
But the alternative will be far more painful in the long run.

Never abandon your path for somebody else’s comfort.
This might leave you on your own for a while — but walking a road alone isn’t lonely when meaning follows you with every step.

When you do that, your true travel companions will appear — the ones meant for your destination, not just your departure gate.

These past five months didn’t just give me unforgettable experiences — they gave me direction.

Not away from a life I don’t want — but toward the one I’m meant to live.