So often I wonder what it is about travel that becomes addictive for so many of us. I am not a true road-warrior-soul who can be on the road at all times. I am not a nomad that yearns to never settle down, but I am someone who not only craves but NEEDS to travel often enough to remind myself of the magic of life that can only come from a change of surroundings.
Traveling makes my senses come alive in a way that the routine of "normal, daily life" can't. I know that I need to work on cultivating this fire in daily life, but until I learn to do that, travel will continue to be my drug of choice.
I have a studio full of paints, scissors, pencils, glues, canvases, paper and so many other things to encourage creativity, but I never feel as creatively charged at home as I do in the 2'x2' space of an airplane seat. There is something that ignites within me that suddenly needs to capture all of the emotions churning through my veins, throw them onto paper, color them outside of the lines and simply grasp them between my fingers before they spill back into the cracks of routine.
I have never really been able to articulate this magic of travel well and was recently humbled to learn that Rumi summed it up over 700 years ago in one sentence; "Travel brings power and love back into your life."
I love that man.