The Lonely Leap

“I wish I could, but right now, I just can’t.” Those are the words from a colleague of mine, I’m sure you’ve heard similar. She isn’t alone, traveling seems out of reach to those who’ve never taken the leap. The American Dream tells us that buying a home, having a family, and holding a steady job is the dream we should be after. Advertisements show us the same mantra. Society is geared toward ownership: owning a car, owning a house, owning...is that the American dream? To buy as much stuff as we can, as will make us happy, then die? We’d never say it out loud, but maybe. However, to some of us, the few, we have decided not to spend our money that way. We’ve decided not to buy a home, not to buy the XLE version with plush leather seats, not to purchase the next iPhone. Instead, we’ve made the lonely, lonely leap to live as if memories matter more than the stuff we buy.

You’re probably already upset. Of course, everyone believes memories matter more than things. No one in their right mind would say otherwise. Well sure…but do you live that way? I made a trip to the Grand Canyon recently, more specifically, the photogenic “Horseshoe Bend” (you can read about it here) and I was not altogether shocked with what I saw, but rather, disappointed. Everyone was clamoring with cameras to capture a moment in time so they “wouldn’t forget it.”  But in their rush, they forgot the simplicity of being still. That sitting, and taking in the moment is infinitely more valuable than the 8MP image captured on their iPhone screen that will one day be lost in the sea of selfies, food pics, and graduation day shots. They live as if the picture is more valuable than the memory and regardless of what Apple says…there is a vast difference between the two. See, all those Grand Canyon-seekers were living as if they were trying to own something, not experience a moment. They would say they are going to the Grand Canyon to create a memory, but all they end up doing is pushing people out of their way in an effort to take a photo, to "own" something. They missed out: they didn’t set their cameras down long enough to experience any of it.

Take a look at how you spend your money. What percentage of it is geared towards making memories versus buying the new…(fill in the blank). Black Friday is coming up. Spending $200 on a larger TV is $50 short of a roundtrip ticket to Iceland. Buy a new iPhone 7? That money can send you to New Zealand and back with $200 to spare. I’m not trying to tell you how to spend your money, but don’t lie to yourself either: you’d rather live comfortably than live adventurously. And if that’s how you want to go to your grave, comfortable as hell with all your depreciating toys, by all means go right ahead…but you don’t have to. I empathize with you, I really do. It’s hard to make the leap. It isn't always, but usually it is a lonely leap. It’s hard to convince people to jump with you, so you may have to go it alone. But I have good news: it’s worth it.

It took me a year of wandering on my own to find someone who would wander with me. Someone who, so it seems, was wandering for years already, looking for someone like me. I won’t lie to you, that first year was hard, very hard. Looking back though, some of my fondest memories came from those times: the freezing cold mountains of Colorado, the warm sand of both the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, the hours of kayaking down rivers unknown, the sand-dunes of California, the desert winds of Arizona, the lake-front beaches of Utah, the cloud covered mountains of Shenandoah Virginia, the hours of plane travel, sitting next to someone new each time and hearing their stories, the familiar faces of the Atlanta Airport shuttle drivers, TSA, and Frontier Airlines pilots. Those memories will always be with me, even when my iPhone is obsolete, my camera is dead, and my house is sold. Invest in memories. It’s worth the leap, even if you have to go it alone.