One of the most exciting places in the world is the Atlanta airport.
Sounds a little strange right? Not if you see it like I do—a place of endless possibilities and a gateway to the rest of the world.
Travel is something so dear to my heart, I consider it a friend. It’s a concept that has allowed me to eat strange foods, witness incredible sights firsthand, both ancient and new, and meet people with different cultural and social paradigms that have changed and shaped me for the better.
I’ve learned more about history through my travels than I ever did in school, and have felt energy in places that produced a profound impact on how I understand that part of the world and how it relates to everything else.
When I was visiting Normandy, our guide took us into one of the German bunkers on the beach and at once I was transported to D-Day. I felt an eerie, unsettling energy that I would have never experienced through films or reading.
Travel did that, and it’s why I advocate for it so strongly—not as a future event to be undertaken after much planning and saving, but now, right now, while you’re still curious about the world and physically able to meet the demands in seeing it.
I don’t think my affinity for travel is unique, but I have witnessed so many friends and family members postponing that next trip for various reasons, thereby missing out on so much—and the health benefits it has to offer. While the reasons they proffer are logical and valid, I can’t help but feel sad about the missed opportunity of discovery, connection to others, and personal growth by foregoing the trip.
So my humble advice is to go, just go.
There is no better time than now to explore this amazing planet and get out of the ordinary flow of everyday life. Your bank account might take a temporary hit, but the law of reciprocity dictates that the little you give will produce so much richness of experience in return. There is never a time in traveling where you won’t learn something from getting out of your routine and embarking on a journey.
Beyond all of the clichés of travel expanding your horizons, there are unexpected health benefits that make it imperative that you take that next trip sooner rather than later.
Firstly, you build a better brain. Psychologists found that when you step outside of your comfort zone, you literally stretch and grow your brain. Learning anything new challenges and activates your brain in a way that following a routine cannot. When you travel you may not know the language, how to navigate a new transit system, or how to order a coffee just the way you like it—you are forced to learn, and by doing so you become smarter.
When the brain is on autopilot too often, it becomes weaker and less efficient. The novelty brought on by travel zaps your brain into active learning mode, and the amazing memories generated are just the icing on the cake to a fitter, younger brain.
Secondly, travel deepens your empathy for others. Empathy grows best under specific conditions often correlated with travel: being in the present moment, listening, speaking to and relying on strangers, recognizing commonality in others, and cultivating an interest in others. Empathy, like anything, takes work, but it’s a skill that is beneficial to all parties. The more empathetic you are, the more you are able to prevent and resolve conflicts, be understood, and promote healthy relationships. Travel is a powerful tool in strengthening your empathetic muscles, and often it doesn’t feel like work.
Thirdly, travel makes you happier. A 2016 study by the U.S. Travel Association and Project found that the more time taken off for travel correlated to more happiness at home. The more vacation days used, the lower the stress. The study also showed that over the past 15 years, Americans are taking nearly a week less of vacation. The case for travel could never be more important, especially when your well-being is at stake.
Life-changing travel doesn’t mean taking a trip thousands of miles away: simply going outside of your usual track of work, life, and play can have an impact.
Not far from our house is a magical place called the Atlanta Chinatown mall. Inside, you will find a cornucopia of Asian food from different regions in China. When you first approach, you’re greeted by a calming zen garden and a crimson bridge crossing a koi pond. The food court is definitely not fancy, but the food is unlike anything I have ever seen or tasted. I have never sampled more authentic Chinese food anywhere else. I generally point to what looks good—as everything is written in Chinese—and try something new every time.
Recently, my husband and I took our two young boys there, and our four-year-old made fast friends with a Chinese boy around his same age. The boys bonded over an iPad game and a love for fried rice. It was so interesting to watch them connect, and when the boy’s parents, who didn’t speak English, came over to retrieve him, there was a mutual understanding that all parents seem to share when it comes to raising kids. We were able to communicate though our facial expressions and share an authentic moment together despite the cultural and language barrier. It made the experience of going out for good food so much richer.
The Chinatown mall experience reminded me of one of my first travel memories: running through the San Diego airport away from my screaming mother. Our family of six was on its way to Okinawa, Japan for a two-year stint courtesy of the United States Marine Corps. I didn’t really understand where we were going or why, but I knew it was going to be completely different from anything I had experienced before, and I was excited.
When we finally arrived after an uneventful 18 hour flight, I was introduced to an unfamiliar landscape, heavy humid air, and the smell of sea and salt from the ocean. My mother was understandably unnerved when a crowd of other passengers gathered around us while we waited in Customs, and started touching our hair. We were oddities with our bleach-blond hair and pale blue eyes and they investigated us with open curiosity. Looking back now, it was a fantastic introduction to Japan. The Customs clerk was equally as curious about this strange ragtag group of six, and made each of the kids a different origami figure to take with us, just because he was kind and knew we would like it.
We lived in an area called “The Ville” off base. My younger sister and I had a Japanese nanny, and she would sing us songs that I still remember today and sing to my boys. Because our nanny was Okinawan, we ate the way the locals did, and our seemingly mundane errands quickly turned into an education on Japanese, and more specifically, Okinawan culture. We’d walk with our nanny or our mother to the Oki-Mart grocery store down the street and pass the different shops with various goods hanging in the window, usually some kind of poultry in its full form.
The air in Okinawa was thick with the tantalizing smells of strange foods, the ocean, and mildew. It created a strange, yet comforting aroma, unique to that part of the world. It seemed stifling at first, but we all adjusted and, by the time we left, we didn’t notice it. We didn’t speak the language of our neighbors, yet there was a bounty of learning and communication happening. As children, this was invaluable to our development and growth in understanding, connecting, and empathizing with others.
I have no intention of taking my boys on an 18 hour flight anywhere, at least not yet, but I know the extraordinary impact that travel had on me at an early age, and I want the same for them. I want them to converse with different kids like the boy at the Chinatown Mall, to taste food local to our destination, and to see landscapes they’ve never seen before. I look at it as my duty to show them the world, and spark the same curiosity about places and people, so that they develop into happier, smarter, more empathetic adults.
When I travel, I am more awake, present, and alive.
On my deathbed, I’m not going to remember those cool shoes I bought, or the purse I just had to have. Instead, I will remember that amazing meal I had in Nashville with my sister and brother-in-law, or the funny conversation I had with a Moroccan boy in a laundromat in Montpellier, or how unsettled I felt standing in a German bunker looking out on the beaches of Normandy.
Travel offers you the unique opportunity to experience new places, food, and people firsthand, but its true gift is discovering who you are and how truly connected we all are on this beautiful planet.
Author: Lizzie Carlile
Image: ML van Dam/Unsplash
Editor: Lieselle Davidson