Bren on The Road

Tag: essays

If You’re Feeling Lost It’s Not You, It’s Them

It was late at night, probably 2am, something like that. I was supposed to be preparing for an accounting workshop, which meant I was scrolling through Facebook, my accounting notes in front of me.

I watched the video again. And then again. Again. One more time. I don’t know how many times exactly, but it was enough that when I watch it today, I still remember all the words by heart, nine years later.

It was a clip by Scott Harrison, the founder of charity: water. He’d made a video about how he’d just been to Kenya, and visited a hospital which had no clean water. It was his birthday, so he went back home and asked everyone to donate $32, as he was turning 32. He returned to Kenya a few months later, and made a video of him digging a well, live, for all his donors to see.

That hit me in the soul. I’m not sure if you’ve had one of those moments where something really hits you in the soul. Like wow, I’m never going to forget this. But that’s what it did. Right in the soul. I wanted to fly to Africa, that moment, in the middle of the night. What if I could just drive to the airport, right now, get on a plane, save some lives. Maybe I could start being awesome like him.

Of course, that never happens.

I brushed my teeth, went to bed and showed up again for work the next day. But I promised myself: When my birthday came, I’d do a campaign, just like his one.

When my birthday finally arrived the following year, I hadn’t forgotten about Scott. I was turning 25, and was so pumped to get started I registered as a donor two months early. I needed to raise $5,000 to fund a water project.

Easy, I thought. If 200 people donate $25, we’re done! I had 500 friends on Facebook, 130 people at the office, I’ll throw in a few hundred myself. Plus, charity:water was so proactive with transparency, they GPS’d every project on Google Maps, gave 100% of proceeds to projects. How could people not want to be a part of something this awesome?

Then I started asking for money.

I messaged every friend I had on Facebook. Every single one. I was surgical with it. I put every name into a spreadsheet, categorised them into sports friends, school friends, work friends, I recorded dates, recorded their responses. If they said no, I blacked them out. Non believers. If they didn’t respond, I noted to ask again in a week. If they said yes, I noted to follow up in 3 days. I printed business cards with all the campaign details, handed them out to friends, workmates. It felt like the most important undertaking of my life. I didn’t care how much work was needed. I was going to raise the money.

Donations trickled in. My closest friends, my Mum, all the usual suspects. Happy birthday, they all wrote. Great cause. But for every person that said yes, five said no, five ignored me, one would say it was stupid. I needed to up my game.

I arranged a meeting with the CEO at work a few weeks later. It was the monthly company meeting that Friday, the entire firm was going to be gathered in the presentation room. Normally it was a meeting for the CEO and directors to talk about business stuff, but I asked if he’d give me ten minutes. Just ten minutes. To talk about the cause, to show everyone a video. I told him it was important to me.

He said yes.

I got up in front of the entire firm that Friday, screened my video, talked to everyone about the water crisis. 45,000 people will die this week because of no water. We just need $5,000. I really will go to Ethiopia to visit the project. I’ll show you all what we’ve done.

A few people looked at me confused. I watched a girl give an eye roll to the girl beside her. I’ve never forgotten it. These were the same people I watched drop a hundred dollars at the bar on Fridays like it was nothing. 130 people worked in that office, probably half were in the top tax bracket. Outside of my ‘office friends’, four people donated. The CEO wasn’t one of them.

That weekend, I went to dinner with four friends. They were friends I’d known a long time, although friends I didn’t see often.

“So I’m just gonna say it. What is UP with this water thing man?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, what are you doing?”

“Raising money for charity.”

“But like, since when did you do this stuff? Just tell me, is it girls? You’re doing it to get girls?”

“It’s a good cause, it’s what I want to do.”

“But how do you even know it’s real? It just looks like a scam. How do you know it’s not a scam?”

“It’s not a scam.”

“It just looks stupid bro. It’s STUPID.”

“It does look scammy, Bren,” another girl said.

I looked around the table. The others were nodding.

I didn’t say anything.

“It’s okay bro, here, let me pour you some water.”

He picked up the jug and filled my glass.

“That’ll be $25 USD.”

The table laughed.

None of them donated.

I went even harder. I tapped everyone I knew. Made promises.

This is real bro. I’ll go to Africa one day. I’ll show you exactly where this money’s gone.

Some donated. Most didn’t.

My girlfriend was next.

“Really?” she asked me one day. “You really want to go to Africa?”

“Yeah.”

“But…why?”

Two months later, I’d raised the money. $5,185. I thanked every person individually, publicly. Best birthday ever. Those people who donated, they’re the same people still in my corner today.

Eighteen months later, charity: water sent me the project report. The well was built. We’d provided clean water to a 1,000 person village in Ethiopia.

Twenty four months later, I boarded a plane to Ethiopia. I landed in Addis Ababa, travelled north to Axum, trekked five hours into the village in the middle of nowhere. The well was there. They’d even put my name on it. I made a video, uploaded it to Facebook, sent it to everyone. They all loved it. We did it. But I always knew we would. It was everyone else who needed convincing.

Two months after I finally quit that accounting job, I travelled to Tanzania. I stayed in a volunteers hostel with around 20 other people, each of us working on different non-profit projects around town. The first night at dinner, I sat next to a guy called Raul, a photographer who had travelled from America with a suitcase of disposable cameras, using them to teach photography to streetkids. Sitting on the other side of me was Jamie, a Dutch nurse who had just come from Malawi, where she told me how she’d just saved a kid’s life in a village where doctors were non-existent. Even though I’d known them for less than an hour, I felt more at home in those conversations than I ever did in that office.

It was during that trip a couple of Israeli guys from the hostel needed to raise some money. The orphanage they were working at needed school supplies. They asked everyone in the hostel if they’d give a little and they’d cook everyone an Israeli meal.

Everyone donated.

Life was never the same after that trip.

Question: Ever feel like people around you just don’t get you?

It’s because they don’t.

Ever feel like people around you are all the same?

It’s because they are.

That’s what happens when people are around each other for a long time. We become like each other. The place we grow up might be the most influential part of who we become, but the unfair thing about it is, we don’t get to choose it.

Another funny thing about homes is, they’re hard to leave, because we don’t know what else is out there.

So when we don’t fit in, we just accept that we don’t fit in. We don’t have as many friends as other people. Don’t like to do the same things as other people. Everyone’s watching rugby. Oh ok, I guess I’ll watch rugby. Nobody likes your idea. Oh I guess my idea was stupid.

Nah – it’s not stupid.

They’re stupid.

You’re awesome.

When I watched that girl roll her eyes during my speech, it told me what I already knew: I was in the wrong place. When my friend started making fun of my campaign, it told me what I already knew: These were the wrong people.

When I sat at dinner with those two volunteers, I knew that place would be different. Almost by accident, I’d found the right place, the right people. People that were travellers at heart. People that were givers at heart. Those were the people I needed to be around, to live the life I wanted.

I’ve spent my whole life in that community ever since.

While reading through the story above, it might sound like passing judgement on those people from my old life. I’m not. I really don’t care what they do with their life or their money. I hope they do whatever makes them happy.

The point of the story was, to be a champion, you need to be around people who champion the things you believe in. When you tell them about the things that excite you, it should excite them too. You shouldn’t be begging for donations, they should be asking how they can support you. Instead of spending all your energy trying to turn them into believers, they should be hyping you up so much you start to believe the impossible.

Maybe you want to ride your motorcycle across America.

People at home will poo poo that idea all day.

Oh yeah, but you need money to do that.

You can’t just quit your job!

It’s dangerous man. Let’s be realistic.

You share the same idea in a hostel at breakfast, you’ll probably have half the trip planned before lunchtime.

Sounds awesome, why don’t you start this month? It’s summer.

I met a guy who did that last year, want his number? He might even rent you his bike.

Why don’t you add in Mexico and Canada too? You’ll only need another month or two.

Usually, chasing our dreams isn’t even hard. It’s the people around us that hold us back. They don’t even need to say anything. They roll their eyes at you, change the subject, wince a few times. Maybe those are small things, but 18 years of those small things can kill anything.

Remember my girlfriend who said going to Africa was a dumb idea?

Compare that to someone you meet on the road.

I’ve never met anyone on the road who said going anywhere was a dumb idea.

North Korea? I’ve met people who’ve been to North Korea. Loved it. Afghanistan? I’ve met people who’ve been there too. Congo? Know tons of people who went to the Congo. Best trip ever, they said.

To the wrong people, everything’s dumb. To the right people, everything’s possible.

That Friday after giving my talk at the staff meeting, something interesting happened. I was approached by a young guy. He was a candidate for the following year’s graduate intake, and had been invited to join the meeting and mingle with staff after his interview.

I’d noticed him actually, while I was speaking. He stood out, the only face in the room I didn’t recognise.

“That was really cool man,” he said to me, shaking my hand. “It’s so cool people do that kind of stuff here!”

We talked for a short while, before he moved on to some of the higher ups.

“Make him feel at home,” my boss came and said to me, obviously having seen us talking. “He’s a rockstar. We really want him.”

A few weeks later, I saw him again, walking around the office with the HR lady. She walked him past my desk and stopped to introduce him.

“This is Daniel, he’s just signed a grad contract for next year.”

“Yeah we’ve met,” I told her, shaking his hand again. “Congratulations.”

“He was particularly excited to be joining your team,” she said, smiling.

“Your talk was awesome man. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

I glanced at the HR lady, who gave me a knowing stare behind her smile. I’d handed in my resignation weeks ago. She’d already arranged my exit interview. Obviously she hadn’t told him.

I should have pulled him to the side. Told him the truth. This isn’t the place for you. What you saw at the meeting, you’re not going to find it here. Tear up that contract, find yourself a place where people give a shit about these things, where people are inspired about the same things you are.

I turned back to him and smiled.

“Yeah man. Looking forward to it.”

But the things I couldn’t say to him that day, I can say to you now.

Never doubt the big ideas you have inside. If people don’t see what you see, it’s not you, it’s them. Find a different them. Even if it’s a random meetup on the internet, a Facebook group, a tiny forum on some weird website, make an effort to find the tribe that will never stop pushing you. Find the tribe that sees what you see. Find the tribe that will cheer like crazy when you get there.

Because every idea that lights you up is an awesome idea. Forget non believers. Find your people and ride, because we’re all cheering for you.

See you out here dreamer.

B

January 25, 2019
What Do You Do, When All Your Dreams Come True?

The journey used to be so clear.

I knew exactly what I was trying to achieve. There was a list of places I had to go, things I had to do, experiences I had to tick off a list. Some vanilla, some sordid, some grand. I wanted battle scars, war stories. I was a boy. I wanted to become a man out there. I wanted to experience everything.

For years, I roamed around the world, and eventually I did exactly that. I experienced everything.

Then the sunset came. It was unexpected. Because the truth is, I never dreamed I would actually succeed. It all seemed so faraway and impossible. I thought I’d be chasing that “travel around the world” adventure my whole life. But like they always say, dreams really do come true.

I think back today, to the person I was before I stepped on the plane. The person that used to go to that cubicle every day. I suspect I was much like everyone else. I woke up, snoozed the alarm for half an hour, ironed a shirt, slipped the tie on. And I say slip it on because I never actually untied it each night, just loosened it enough to slip over my head, so I had one less thing to do the next morning. That’s how much I really hated the morning. Not to mention the morning’s main event: Sitting in the car half asleep for forty five minutes and hating my life. I can’t believe I never crashed during those commutes. I was a zombie.

During that life, the thought of travel tantalised me. It consumed my every thought – all the places I could go when I finally quit this job. I could go to South America and learn to salsa with the pretty ladies. I mean, South America. That’s Argentina, Ecuador, Colombia! Man, those places must be so incredible. I’m going to go China, I’ll finally learn to speak Chinese. I’ll eat noodles at the street carts every day, have those pancakes with the fried egg every morning. And maybe, just maybe, Africa. Wow. Will I ever really go to Africa? Probably not in this lifetime. How would I even survive out there? I can’t even imagine. Maybe. One day.

I was 25 when I finally quit my job. I didn’t really have a plan. But I bought a plane ticket. I didn’t realise what an important moment in my life that was. It was important because something was changing. I was actually doing something. I was actually going somewhere. And I was battle-ready, with a suitcase full of hand sanitiser and malaria medicine and anti-diarrhea pills. Invincible.

Life changed pretty quick after that. I mean, I’d travelled before, but I’d never really travelled before. I’d gone places with Mum and Dad and stayed in hotels and caught taxis everywhere. But I’d never met anyone. Never had a conversation with a local. Never been on a date. Never talked to the person next to me on the bus. Never been invited to someone’s house for dinner.

When those things started happening, my mind was blown. Over and over again. Every single day. I would lie in bed at night, questions burning through my skull. I couldn’t understand how the world was so big, how little I had known. How much I now had to see and learn. I really felt like Jim Carrey, in the Truman Show. I felt like I’d been living a lie my entire life.

Why was I always told these places were dangerous?

Why was I always told they were unkind?

Why did they try to keep me in one place my whole life?

What were they trying to hide?

From that point on, for many years, I refused to go back home. I’d go back for one or two months, see the doctor, see the dentist, say hi to my Mum, and then I’d leave again. There was nothing for me to learn there. All the people did was watch rugby and go to the gym anyway. No thank you. I had discovered a new world, a new life, a new community. I had a mission now, and New Zealand had to be left behind.

For half a decade I continued my quest. Every day, I learned so much. My fellow travellers taught me different travel hacks and tips, they recounted stories of faraway and obscure places that I added to my ever-growing list. I met a new and interesting person every day. Each of them had lived such a different life to me and had such different values – it was like an endless philosophy lecture – and my perspectives were tested daily. It was a wild ride of different friendships, relationships, challenges and confrontations. One day I stared death in the face and wasn’t scared for a second; another day something as simple as buying a coconut at the market terrified me beyond belief. I discovered something new about myself every day.

Eventually I learned, that was the real journey. This wasn’t a journey around the world. It was a journey into oneself.

I traversed the world and learned to surf, to dance, to fight, to cook, languages, yoga, food, sports – all these new skills and experiences I had to absorb, from all over the world. I felt like a video game character – levelling up with every new challenge. I saw all the famous sights I could handle, and then some, the most magnificent places in the world.

But none of that changed me. Not to the core. They were just the dressing.

It was the people that held my hand through those experiences: The conversations we had, the way they lived, the things they taught me. Things they said – most likely just ordinary sentences to them – were profound and thought provoking for me. They made me contemplate who I was, and who I wanted to be. One smile from a child was enough to challenge a lifetime of beliefs. They say people don’t change, but it’s not true. People do change. I know, because I have. It just takes something powerful. You only have to hope it’s powerfully good, and it changes you for the better. The journey into oneself.

Today I look at travel, this good friend that has given me so much, and there are few burning desires left. Most of the things I had lusted for, I have gotten. Of course there are places I still want to go, things I want to see. But travel used to be mysterious, and it’s not anymore. I no longer sit there and wonder what it would be like to “see the world“. I’ve been lucky to enough to leave footprints on every continent, and if I died today, I would gladly write the dying words – “I travelled the world, and it was everything I thought it would be.”

Often I tell people: Life is short, chase your dreams.

But now I realise there’s an equally important question: What do you do when all your dreams come true?

That seems to be the mystery now. Who will be standing next to you at the end of it? Who will you share the memories with? What will you build for the people ahead of you? And what will you leave behind?

These are the questions I don’t have answers to.

Perhaps, that is the next chapter.

To all your adventures,

Bren

December 6, 2017
Travel Has Ruined My Love Life

Love.

What a strange word.

For some it’s a prison. Others, bliss. And for some of us, we just really love pizza.

Love happens. Everywhere. It makes the world spin, and it’s universal. We’ve all seen it. Beautiful, horrible and a real pain in the A, all at the same time.

I remember the first time I fell in love overseas. Intoxicating. That hispanic accent can make any man’s knees wobble. I used to see those eyes and think, “Gosh, you’re amazing.” Now if I see those eyes I’ll scramble to the nearest bunker. That girl was Level 10 crazy to the moon and back.

The more I travelled, the more women I met. Short relationships, long relationships, friend-zonifications, platonic friendships and wild flings – they happened all over the world. The attention-seeking Frenchie, the magnetic but insane Filipina, the cute red-head with the horrible accent, the single mom who was impossibly sweet, the California girl who I wasn’t sure if I was dating or not, the charming half Tanzanian who I had to leave far too soon. On it went.

I didn’t seek those relationships. They just kind of happened. Meeting them was just so…interesting. A first date was like a wild adventure.

“What is this place?”

“Is this what you normally eat for dessert?”

“How do I ask for a cup of tea in Bulgarian?”

Everything was new. Everything was amusing. Even if the date was terrible, it wasn’t. It was always funny and memorable, and at the very least, a great story to tell the boys back at the hostel. It was impossible to have a boring date on the road.

And soon I learned, every country breeds amazing women. Some are demure and sweet, others wild and adventurous, but all were unique and beautiful in their own way. To date a foreign girl was the ultimate culture shock; sometimes good, sometimes horrific, but always worth it.

However, the road isn’t a place where love blossoms into a mighty tree that lasts a lifetime. At most, it sprouts into half a flower, then it’s ripped out of the ground once your visa expires or your return flight comes around.

Such is the love life of a travelling man.

When I finally came home, it was time for reality check number two. Dating was impossible.

On the road every single conversation was fun.

“What did you eat for breakfast?”

“Katogo.”

“Katogo! What’s that? How do you cook it? Can we go eat it? Is it good?”

Laughs all around. Endless conversation.

Home was different.

“What did you eat for breakfast?”

“Toast.”

…

It became impossible to date at home again. There was nothing to talk about. They didn’t get me. I didn’t get them. It was just so…boring.

I couldn’t have a relationship with the girls at home. I couldn’t have a relationship with girls on the road. It was either underwhelming, or fleeting, or both.

So what did I do? I did what any man would do.

Nothing.

I simply endured my terrible, annoying, up and down love life.

And then I realised, it wasn’t because of the girls. It’s not you, it’s me (no seriously…) It was simply because my heart was somewhere else. I couldn’t give any connections the attention they deserved. I couldn’t truly let them into my life. And that was all because I couldn’t give up my true love. My real mistress.

The road.

You meet a girl. She’s amazing. But hey, this can only go on for a couple of months because I’m going to Europe in March.

You go on a date. She’s really sweet. And I’d love to spend more time with you, but I’m heading off to Africa next week.

If they ask if I’ll change my travel plans for them, they usually don’t like the answer.

So I’m selfish. Maybe that makes me a dick. But when your heart is telling you to go, are you really not going to go?

Because I hurt too. Those awful, gut-wrenching goodbyes that still make my stomach echo when I think about them today. But at the end of the day, I need to keep moving. It’s who I am. When I need to go, I need to go. I don’t expect you to understand.

When you’ve tasted the joy of travel, life changes quick. There’s always more to see, more to explore. Endless adventure is always waiting. Where do you stop? How can love compete? Every now and then a special someone comes along, but it doesn’t matter how fast she makes your heart spin, because the road is always there, calling your name.

I don’t know if that’s a love that ever dies.

Perhaps, this is the double-edged sword of worldly curiosity. Lives of colourful adventures and crippled romances. But is it worth it?

I hope so.

Because despite the battered backpack and the heart to match, this train keeps on rolling. My clunky love life will just have to tag along with me.

August 29, 2016
What People Are Doing When They Travel To “Find Themselves”
You’ve seen it before, right?

Someone you used to know, suddenly transformed after venturing around the world. All their old dreams vanished and they come home all worldly with their stories and new-found carefree attitudes. Kind of annoying, really.

Life is different now, they say.

They’ve changed.

They’ve finally found themselves.

Honestly, I hate that phrase. “Finding yourself” is so cliche and fluffy that it doesn’t even mean anything anymore. Films like Eat Pray Love and Walter Mitty have only glammed it up even more. But the truth is, travel does change things. The person that leaves is rarely the same as the one that returns.

But why? What the hell happens out there?

Here’s my take.
Read more:
Removing outside influences

For most of us, our life is full of outside influences. We have parents telling us to work hard and find good jobs. We have teachers telling us to study hard and get good grades. We have bosses directing our careers. We have girlfriends (or boyfriends) swaying our decisions. We have social pressure from colleagues and friends to fit in and be normal. We have governments saying we need jobs to be responsible. We have television, billboards and advertising, telling us what is trendy and acceptable. We have society creating a mould and constantly pressuring us to fit into it.

And every time we want something somewhat different to the pack we get ‘concerned’ friends looking at us funny saying, “Really?”

With all these voices in our head, our decisions are so heavily influenced that it’s impossible to figure out what we truly want.

Instead of “going travelling to find yourself”, a more appropriate phrase might be “going travelling to decide what you want from life because it’s the only place where people will shut the fuck up long enough for you to think”.

Seeing the world changed a lot of my opinions and perspectives on life; almost complete U-turns in some cases, but in reality it wasn’t so much the travel that did it.

It was the quiet.

It was the solarity.

One of the biggest fantasies you will hear from people in 9-5 jobs is that they want to just “retire on the beach and drink cocktails all day”. In fact, while sitting in my cubicle I can admit that I fantasised about the exact same thing probably every Monday (and Tuesday, and Wednesday, and Thursday…).

And then, only a few years later, I found myself in South East Asia doing exactly that. Each morning I would wake up, eat breakfast, and then sit on the beach and drink cocktails all day.

Was it fun?

You bet.

I had the best time of my life…for two days. Then I got bored.

It only took 48 hours to realise that wasn’t my dream at all. It was just a fantasy that had been dreamed up out of hate for my old life; early morning commutes, wearing a tie, a shitty job and a 40-hour work week.

During those years, I would wake up every morning and think, “If this is really going to be my life for the next 40 years, you can kill me now.”

But as I sat on the beach with drink in hand, the prospect of that lifestyle didn’t impress me much either. I mean, honestly, ask yourself; do you really want to sit on the beach and drink every day for the rest of your life? Never learning anything new, never challenging yourself, never growing or achieving anything? Is that really what you want from life? Is that really what you want to spend your precious time on this earth doing?

Sure, it still sounds better than a cubicle. But I’d be surprised if anyone would be happy spending 40 years drowning in alcohol on the beach.

That wasn’t my dream. It was an “anywhere but here” fantasy, dreamed up out of my unhappiness and desperation. I soon realised, I need to be challenged. I need to be learning new things. Sitting on the beach drinking cocktails is fun, but sitting on the beach reading books would surely satisfy me more.

But that’s not enough either. I like challenges and building things. I like writing and creating things. So perhaps, sitting on the beach reading books and building a business would be my dream.

But even that’s not enough. I like to have friends. I like companionship. I want to be around my family. So perhaps, sitting on the beach reading books, building a business, near my family with a great girlfriend and great circle of friends would be my dream. Maybe? Who knows.

But that’s a part of finding yourself. If I were still in my cubicle, with only 3 hours of free time a day and my friends, family, colleagues and girlfriend all telling me what I should do, I would still be fantasising about cocktails on the beach.

“The best day of your life is the one on which you decide your life is your own. No apologies or excuses. No one to lean on, rely on, or blame. The gift is yours – it is an amazing journey – and you alone are responsible for the quality of it. This is the day your life really begins.”
–Bob Moawad

Realising your paradise does exist

We all think our lives are normal. We all think that the way we live, the things we eat and the society that we have is the right version of life, and everything else is different.

But every traveller eventually has that eureka moment; maybe while sitting on a beach or wandering through some small town. They see and experience something so different and so contrasting with their own life that it suddenly hits them: their life isn’t normal. Normal doesn’t exist.

You think an alarm clock is normal? No, it’s not. Not everyone wakes up at 7am and does a 40 hour work week. Just the mere thought of doing that is a complete joke to many people.

It goes for everything in life – shoes, monogamy, internet, religion, taxes, locking your doors, tampons, divorce – all these things we blindingly accept as normal are considered absolutely ridiculous somewhere else in the world.

And then suddenly, it’s like, poof, you no longer need to live by the rules back home. There are many different places out there, with different rules, and if you look hard enough, you’ll find a place with rules you agree with.

That life you hated so much back home, you don’t need to go back to it.

Back there, the life you want to live is considered ‘stupid’ and ‘unrealistic’. You’re bombarded by naysayers and cynics, and people who feel threatened by your desire to venture out.

But not on the road.

Somewhere in the world, you’ll be able to find a place where the life you always dreamed of living; your beliefs and values and lifestyle, isn’t stupid. It’s normal. And by finding this place, you no longer feel like an outsider. You don’t need to feel like what you’re looking for is stupid and unrealistic. You’re finally able to accept who you are and what you want. In the process of discovering the world, you were able to rediscover yourself. And that’s a part of finding yourself.

“If you end up with a boring miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it.”
-Frank Zappa

Finding perspective

You’ve probably heard the saying “it’s a small world.”

Well, whoever came up with that is an idiot.

It’s an enormous world, overflowing with amazing people and places that even with twenty lifetimes you would not come close to seeing it all.

But it’s not until you really start exploring that you realise how big the world is. It’s only when you meet that one interesting person in that one faraway town in that obscure, impossible to find tea house, that you begin to wonder; how many more amazing people are waiting to be met? How many incredible stories are waiting to be told? How many more places are there to be found, all with their own myths and scandals and legends and stories?

But more importantly, you realise that you cannot meet all these people, or see all these places. The world is too big. And in a world so big, you’re insignificant. You yourself are also just another one of these faraway people, waiting to be met. So even though back home you probably consider yourself the most important person in the universe, in reality, you’re nobody.

There are 7 billion people on this planet. If you disappeared tomorrow without a trace, how many people do you think would actually care?

100?

200?

500?

That’s not even 1 percent of 1 percent of 1 percent.

Perspective.

You’re nothing more than a speck of sand on a shoreline that never ends.

Is that cynical? No. It’s liberating.

Because since you’re so insignificant, you are free. And because you are free, you can do whatever you want.

Nobody cares.

Perspective.

One thing that’s very noticeable among well travelled people is how laid back they are. They don’t get hung up on stupid shit.

Girls I used to eat lunch with at work would freak out when their plate had a tiny bit of dirt on the edge. They would berate the waiter with a tone that said “how dare you serve me a plate that isn’t sparkling clean!”

However girls I eat lunch with on the road happily sit down in the dirtiest, smelliest street stalls and devour their meals with huge smiles on their faces.

Why?

Because the road humbles you. You learn how insignificant you are. And then you don’t care anymore. If someone is angry at us, we don’t care. If our order is late, we don’t care. No job? We don’t care. If the bus ride is 40 hours and there’s no air conditioning and we’re all sweating and someone vomits and the whole bus starts to smell like mouldy fish…we don’t care. Because after seeing how big the world is and all the crap that goes on it, we realise this stuff doesn’t really matter.

Perspective.

When we stop caring about dumb shit like this, we allow ourselves to properly care about the things that really do matter – friends, family, our loves and our passions. With our new found perspective, we learn how to choose our battles and focus on what matters. We rediscover what really is important to us, and that’s a part of finding yourself.

“It took me a long time and much painful boomeranging of my expectations to achieve a realization everyone else appears to have been born with: That I am nobody but myself. But first I had to discover that I am an invisible man.”
-Ralph Ellison

Realising that it’s ok to do what you love

We live in a wonderful world, where from the youngest of ages we are conditioned into being model citizens. Our lives are paved out for us before we even hit puberty.

I didn’t really want to go to university. I didn’t want a 9-5 work day. I didn’t want to apply for a job after graduation. I did it because I thought I had to.

You’ll probably do the same.

But then, you travel. And you do the things you love. And you find new things to love. And you decide you don’t want to be a banking officer anymore – you want to ride horses, or scuba dive, or do yoga, or play the harp.

And more importantly, you actually meet people who are spending their lives riding horses, and diving, and teaching yoga, and playing the harp.

Those moments stick with you. It’s like, “Shit! Look at all these people living the exact life I never thought was possible!”

And you no longer need an alarm clock to get you out of bed. You don’t need any more inspirational quotes on Facebook. You’ve finally realised that if you just take the tiny step outside the lines, it’s possible to spend your life just doing what you love and life is suddenly exciting again. That’s a part of finding yourself.

“We can’t be afraid of change. You may feel very secure in the pond that you are in, but if you never venture out of it, you will never know that there is such a thing as an ocean, a sea. Holding onto something that is good for you now, may be the very reason why you don’t have something better.”
-C. Joybell C.

Do you need to travel to find yourself? Probably not. But amongst all the noise of your daily life, it is hard to really give yourself the space to do so.

When we travel, we get lost.

We have days where life has no meaning at all – we just lie in bed and stare at the slats in the bunk above us.

And then we have days where life has all the meaning in the world, when we meet a special person who teaches us a lesson so powerful that our life changes completely.

Time on the road is time to reflect, to think, see what is on the outside. It’s time away from the masses; time to be whoever you want to be. We see all the different flavours of the world, absorb it all, and decide which path draws us in the most. We get lost, and we search, and then we find ourselves.

Whatever the hell that means.
July 1, 2015
The One Simple Lifestyle Change That Will Transform Your Life

Everybody wants more. Everybody wants to have the bigger house, the faster car, the nicer suit. When the new phone comes out, we want it. We need it. When we get to six figures, we want seven, and if we’re lucky enough to get to seven, we want eight. Everybody always wants more.

But what would happen if everybody wanted less? What if you offered somebody a mansion and they simply said, “No thanks, my studio apartment is just fine.” What if you offered someone an Armani suit and they said, “That’s alright, I’ve already got all the clothes I need.” Because interestingly, that seems to bring people a lot closer to happiness than you’d think.

When I was a kid, I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up. My friends wanted to be firemen, or soldiers or race car drivers. But not me. None of that stuff really jumped out at me. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to be rich.

This dream carried through my teenage years and into adulthood. When I started work as an accountant, I would fawn over my clients’ bank statements, mad with envy.

“Bro, come look at this one!” I’d say to my colleague, and we’d huddle around it, staring at the endless zeroes, in awe of these guys who were ordering European cars like Domino’s and living in million dollar houses. I would run through their entire statement, looking at the $2,000 dinners they would buy and the weekend shopping splurges they’d have on clothes and holidays.

“That’ll be me one day,” I would smile to myself.

I was going to upgrade from this shitty job, work at some big bank in London, get a gig on Wall Street. I was going to be that guy who drove around the corner in the $400,000 car and everyone would stop to watch me drive past. I’d be the guy that finally bought that $3,000 bottle of wine on the menu. I had a nice life, but I wanted more. I always wanted more.

My first trip to Africa started to change that. I worked with many vulnerable children and families during my time there, and interestingly, began to admire them a lot more than I’d admired those millionaires in my client folder. It forced me to question the value of my dream and where it was taking me, and I began to wonder why I had been chasing a life of excess when in reality, I already had everything I could possibly need.

I spent the next 3 years travelling the world, and with these thoughts in the back of my mind I started to embrace the simple life. I stopped buying new things, simply because I didn’t have any room to carry them. And as I stopped buying new things, I stopped wanting new things. And as I stopped wanting new things, I noticed that new things didn’t have any effect on my happiness at all.

With only five t-shirts, my body felt the same as when I had twenty t-shirts.

With one pair of shoes, my feet felt the same as when I had five pairs.

Somehow, my shoulders didn’t seem to complain that I wore the same jacket each day.

Instead of wanting more, I wanted less. And slowly, I realised I’d been chasing the wrong things all along. All those years I’d been working 40 hour weeks to buy more and have more, and now suddenly, there was nothing I wanted to buy. So what good was a job after that? What was I supposed to be working for?

Nothing.

I didn’t need to work for anything. I was free.

And just like that my dream had come true. I was rich.

Over the past year, I can count on one hand the physical things I’ve bought that cost more than $100.

Two.

A cellphone, and a juicer.

I’ve largely managed to remove “stuff” from my life. And despite not earning a lot of money and not buying a lot of things, the year gone by has been one of the richest years of my life. Without the burden of a job, mortgage, car and house full of stuff, I’ve managed to spend my entire days on more fulfilling activities such as writing, reading, learning, meditating, exploring, exercising, cooking, relaxing, and interestingly, almost all of these things are free. Some would say I’m living like a retired millionaire, and maybe I am, but I don’t have much money at all.

I’ve learned that when you stop buying things, you stop needing a lot of money, and when you stop needing money, you no longer need a regular job, and when you no longer have a regular job, you have time, and when you have time, you can literally do whatever you want. And isn’t that the meaning of happiness? To do whatever you want?

In the west especially, we place a lot of value on material things. We often define people by what they have, rather than who they are. Just the other day I remember asking my friend about someone in her family.

“What’s he like?” I asked, to which she responded, “He has a helicopter”. It puzzled me. A helicopter? Is that who he is? I guess a few years back, that would’ve impressed me, but the reality is things are just things. And they have nothing to do with who you are.

Ask yourself, who are you as a person? Who do you want to be? What do you want to learn, to be good at, to experience, to see?

Because what makes you rich and unique is not what you have, but how you have lived. It’s in the stories you’ve collected, the lives you have touched. It’s in the memories you have to take with you.

Since I’ve been travelling, I’ve had a lot of plane rides and bus trips to sit and reflect, and the one thing I always tend to think about is happiness.

What does it mean? And where does it come from?

Many of you, like I did, might consider that getting your dream apartment, a European car, a walk in wardrobe with all your favourite clothes, and a million dollar lottery win will probably get you there. But imagine you had all that tomorrow. Picture yourself with all of that. What would you do next? I’d assume you would say you’re going to spend the rest of your life doing things you love, like travelling, or relaxing on the beach and surfing, or writing music, or spending time with your kids. But if you think about it, you can already do all these things. You do not need the house, or the car, or the million dollars for that fulfillment. And that should tell you that in reality, your happiness has nothing to do with those material things at all.

If you find yourself unhappy, not having the time or money to live the life you desire, start asking yourself, why? What are you missing in your life? Chances are you’re spending too much time working, and not enough time on the things you love. But what are you working so hard for? What do you need to buy that you don’t already have?

There is a Swedish proverb that goes something like, “He who buys what he does not need, steals from himself.” Take a moment to think about how much you’ve stolen from yourself. What did you spend your paychecks on last year? Were they essential to your survival? Will you remember those things ten years from now?

You can buy a car for $10,000, or you can travel the world for a year. You can buy a $1,000 iPad, or you can buy 10 flights around Asia. You can buy an $800,000 penthouse apartment, or you can spend the rest of your life relaxing in beachfront huts for $20 a day.

Think about the stuff you’re buying. Is it bringing your dream closer? Or pushing it further away?

In The 4 Hour Work Week, the author talks a lot about lifestyle costing and design. The basic premise is, what is your ideal lifestyle, and how much does it cost to live it? I love Asia, so for me, I’d probably live there, at least for now. A decent bed is $12 a night, great food is $5 a day, a massage is $5 and other miscellaneous costs might run me $5 more. That works out to $27 a day to live a comfortable life at the beach (or in the city). So ideally, that is what I’d aim to earn, and the rest of my time would be spent living, i.e. doing what I love.

What about you? How much money do you really need?

The beauty of this equation is that it highlights the value of minimalism and living a simple life with less. If your lifestyle is too expensive, want less. Make do with less. Everyone has a choice between living with more and working more, or living with less and working less.

Which will you choose?

People often ask me, what’s my secret? How do I do it? How do you spend the entire year travelling the world?

I suppose there is a secret, and to live this lifestyle it’s mostly been about one thing – spending less money.

Everything of importance to me I can fit into my 70 litre backpack. There’s a couple of pairs of shoes in there, my laptop, my camera, some clothes, some toiletries, and that’s it. I live with the contents of this bag year round, and need nothing more and nothing less. It almost feels like I own nothing. But I have more than I could possibly need.

My life squashed into one bag

I can’t remember the last time I went “shopping”. I don’t remember the last time I bought a new shirt. I do not spend my day dreaming of things to buy, but rather reading about things I want to learn, writing about things that are on my mind, and seeing places that I’ve always wanted. I take photos, I sleep in, I walk, I exercise, I read and write, I explore and I relax. That is my day.

In this age of hyper-consumerism and extravagant spending, I’ve been liberated by simply living a life of minimalism. I am no longer enticed by shiny things. I no longer believe in the lie that success consists of earning more and buying more. I buy only what I need, and I simply live.

In the movie Fight Club, Tyler Durden famously said, “The things you own, end up owning you.” You buy a house, and it owns you. You cannot stop working because of it. You cannot travel because of it. You cannot spend more time with your family because of it. You cannot quit your job because of it. Your entire day, your entire life, becomes about earning more money to pay for your house.

Ask yourself; do you own the house, or does the house own you?

When you buy a car, you need to finance it. You need to service and clean it. You need to pay for petrol, insurance, warrants, parking. You worry about where to leave it, whether someone will dent it, whether it will be stolen, whether it’s been registered. The car you wanted so badly is now always on your mind, sucking in all your time, money and energy.

Ask yourself, do you own the car, or does the car own you?

When the weekend finally comes you have two precious days free, but you need to spend it cleaning the house, the car, the boat, the second house, the clothes, the garage, the garden.

Let me ask you, what if you had nothing? How much simpler would life be? Instead of 5 rooms to clean, what if you only had three? Two? One?! How much more time would you have to read, surf, run, play the piano, go out for dinner, travel, stargaze, dance?

Instead of wanting more, maybe it’s time we started thinking about less. Instead of filling up your shelves, empty them. Instead of buying something every weekend, sell something. Instead of wanting everything, want nothing at all.

You might just find your dreams are a lot easier to get to, when there’s less stuff in the way.

January 5, 2015
Why Travelling Alone Will Change You Forever
“Are you going by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“But…how do you do that?”

“I get on the plane. And I go. By myself.”

*confused look*

I’ve had this conversation about 900 times. Do I not have any friends? Am I crazy? Am I getting deported? Why am I going alone?

It’s simple. To me, travel is a personal experience. It’s a chance to learn about yourself; who you are and what you want from life. It allows you to see how different the world is and to put your life in perspective. When you remove yourself from your life back home, you’re able to take that time to reflect and see things in your life a little differently. However, when you take a bit of home with you (i.e. a friend), that becomes a lot harder to do.

And then, when you are alone, there are no limitations. You can go north or south, by boat or by train, you can just sit on the street for the whole day and watch the world go by. There are no rules, no one hour lunch breaks. There’s no one else to worry about and no one checking up on you. You can eat whatever you want and sleep wherever you want. For once, you can finally just ask yourself what you want to do today, and then do it. In the process, you’ll learn things about yourself that will surprise even you.

“The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait until that other is ready.”
–Henry David Thoreau

One very common reason people have for not travelling is “I don’t have anyone to go with.”

That’s not a reason. It doesn’t even make sense. Are airlines only selling double passes now? Is there a buy one get one free sale?

Let’s get real. It’s an excuse, and not a very good one.

I get you, though. I’ll be the first to admit – that first solo trip is pretty tough. You wonder what on earth you’re doing. You’re afraid you’ll have no friends and you’ll be sitting in your hotel room watching TV for two weeks. I know, because I’ve been there. Trust me.

My first solo trip was to Málaga, Spain, four years ago. I went there to take a language course, thinking it would be cool adventure to tell my grandchildren. As soon as I got to my room I just lay on the bed for five hours, staring at the ceiling. I fell asleep. I woke up and stared some more.

“I want to go home,” I thought.

I was terrified to leave my room. I wondered who would be out there, what I would say to them. I wanted to eat dinner but I didn’t want to sit in a restaurant by myself. I’d look stupid. I didn’t even know if there was a restaurant nearby. Maybe I’d walk too far and I’d get lost. Maybe people would look at me funny. I couldn’t even speak Spanish! How would I order my food, or ask for directions? My stomach was growling, but I just couldn’t get myself to get up and go.

In the end, I didn’t eat dinner that night. I stayed in my room, watched TV on my laptop and went back to sleep.

Needless to say, things got better. But the only reason things got better was because I started making them better. And I only started making them better because I had to start making them better. If I sat in my room all day like a typical introvert, no one would’ve cared. No one would’ve even known. There was no best friend there to come knocking on my door, to hang out with all day, to talk to at lunch, to go on trips with. The only person I had to depend on was myself.

I started being more sociable. It was uncomfortable at first, but I did it. I made an effort to talk to people and introduce myself. I got to know all my classmates. I learned to say YES to every invitation, no matter what is was for or where we were going. Slowly, I started to see a different side of me. I loved meeting new people, learning new things. I found a new enthusiasm for life. And in the midst of it, I suddenly realised how constrained and limited my life had been back home.

By the end of five weeks, I felt completely at home in Málaga. I remember sitting in the taxi on the way to the airport, trying to talk to my driver who couldn’t speak a word of English. In my broken Spanish, we talked about his wife and kids, his hobbies, what it was like to grow up on the coast. I was amazed that we actually understood each other.

I stared out the window and thought about all the things I’d learned, how different I felt and how much I’d changed in such a short time. Just five weeks earlier I had been a frightened idiot too scared to leave my room to eat. Now I was chatting in a new language with a complete stranger and had made a whole new network of friends from all around the world. When it came time to board the plane, I was crushed to leave, but I was so thankful for the inspiration. Just one short trip led to so many positive changes in my life, ultimately leading me to the journey that I’m on today.

“We cannot expect to grow if we are too afraid or unwilling to change and face challenges. When we exit our everyday, mundane lifestyles to do something different we can experience growth, undiscovered strength, and new abilities within ourselves.”
-Ashley Ormon

People will ask, do you really need to go alone? Can’t you take someone with you? Won’t it be just as awesome?

Well, yes. I’ve travelled with friends and it was a lot of fun. But when you have someone with you, it’s just not the same. You have to agree on where to eat, where to sleep. You need to discuss what sights to see, how long you’ll stay. In times of uncertainty or loneliness you have someone to depend on and seek comfort in. More often than not, you will learn more about your travel buddy than you will learn about yourself. There will always be compromises, and whenever you compromise you are, by definition, settling for something less than what you truly want.

For that reason, I always encourage people to travel alone at least once in their life. An adventure with no limitations, no excuses and no compromises. It might be the scariest thing you’ve ever done, but if you do it, I can promise you three things:
1. It’ll be one trip you’ll never forget.
2. You’ll return home a completely different person than you were before, and people will notice it.
3. You’ll want to do it again.
Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”
-Terry Pratchett

Travelling alone has probably been the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done.

I feel like a completely different person than I was 4 years ago.

I believe in myself now.

I can depend on myself.

I’m not afraid to chase my dreams and try and build the life I want.

If something seems hard or awkward, I’ll do it anyway.

Failure excites me.

I want to learn and grow.

I see everything differently than I used to, and I don’t need alcohol or television or video games to have fun.

When I need to, I am able to simply sit in silence and just enjoy the company of myself. The world has become a completely different place.

Have you travelled alone before? Did you love it? Hate it? What’s your experience? Let me know in the comments below!

Travelling alone and…

Looking for tours and activities at an affordable price? I use GetYourGuide! Always great deals and local perks.
For travel insurance, I always use World Nomads – get protected for just a few dollars a day!
Somewhere to stay? Booking.com gives you the biggest selection and the best rates.
March 8, 2014