It’s that time of year again. We are getting ready to go travel the world, as we are want to do. It’s something I would have never dreamed of in my youth. We were lucky to visit family a few hours away. Once, I even went with my class to Florida. But ever since marrying my partner, I have had to deal with these journeys and getting the travel jitters.
It goes back to my anxious personality. Or my need for routine. Or some slight tinge of A-Type in my personality. Perhaps a combination of all three. It’s just that, when we travel, I get sick. I physically hurt. I feel the trauma of packing up, of getting into the car, and of getting to that next place.
It’s not like I don’t have a good time when we get to where we are going. Far from it. Some of my best memories with my family and friends is the trips that we have taken: to the east coast of Canada, to southern United States, and to Mexico. Scotland on our honeymoon was miraculous. When it comes to travel, I love the destination, I just don’t like the bit in the middle.
I know that they say the journey is the best part. Believe me, I am waiting for that to be the case. The packing, the moving away from the know places and routines, all very stressful. Jitters is definitely a polite way to put it when it comes to my physical reactions.
I am not sure why I find change so frightening. Travel and change are so interlocked. And it’s why I am lucky to have the partner in life that I do. This is something that I would happily hide from. Stay in my bubble, where it is known and safe.
But now I have seen the world. Or at least I have started to. I am opening up to all kinds of experiences I never knew were even possible. Deep sea fishing, swimming in cenotes, late night card games with friends with the ocean roaring in the background. Seeing a whole new field of stars.
In my own life, I need to carry over this experience of getting the travel jitters. My fear is no excuse to avoid all the wonder of the journey.