Over the past several years, The Atlantic, CNBC, CNN, Entrepreneur, Fast Company, Forbes, Fortune, The Guardian, The Los Angeles Times, NBC, Psychology Today, The Telegraph, and Time have all reported on a growing trend in personal finance. Those of us … Continued
I regularly get asked how I find the unique places where I vacation. My trademark response: “Give me five hours and Google, and I can find a vacation you’ve never seen.”
Everybody has the Internet, though; and everybody has five hours. Here’s my process, in case you’re looking to break your status quo.
Candidly, the church through history has often made those instinctive journeys more dangerous. We’ve crushed lives and spooked others from progress. Even as we have attempted to build in-roads into secular culture, we have created more hurdles for someone to find their destiny on the other side of their church experience.
It’s been a tension—not wanting to set my expectations too high but interrupting my days with daydreams (and Google searches), having such a huge motivation but not flaunt the prize in others’ faces. If you’re reading about it here, it’s because you want to join me; and I’m grateful for your support.
What I knew is that I had a story. And, really, the chase of a story—along with some solitude for contemplation—was why I had traveled as far and as hard as I had. I smirked in acceptance. It was an altered mission accomplished.
To be fair, there’s a reason few flock to this slice of the Chihuahuan Desert. It’s not convenient to get there—hours from an interstate highway and seven hours from a major airport (San Antonio). The unabated sun makes visits bearable only half the year, and paddling possible for even fewer months on the calendar. You have to buy water, because it’s that scarce; and educated folks know not to drink the river water that’s already there.
As you learn your writing rhythm, you’ll learn when, where, and how to get the most out of your time at the keyboard. Some of these elements will impact your efficiency more than others. So, be aware of procrastination triggers and distracting stimuli. Pay attention to patterns in the process—good and bad—and determine ways to diminish the negative and promote the positive. That’s how I got this list.
In the din of a bustling convention center, a wiry stranger walked up to me, leaned close to my shoulder, said one sentence, and then walked away. Before the gentleman even finished his deliberate sentence, I felt like he was sent to to deliver it to me.
Back at my hostel, folks asked where I’d been; and I told them.
Responses included, “They let you do that!?” and “How did you arrange that?”
“I asked.”
There are some big lessons in there for me—professional, relational, and spiritual ramifications that I’ve been processing since then. But on my first morning in Cape Town, I made the rest of the trip unnecessary. This would not be topped. This would be the story of the trip.
So, while I didn’t really need to learn Walter’s primary lesson, it was the “two” of the movie’s “one-two” educational punch that hit me so hard that I got emotional in the theater.
I’m flying, floating, then riding a bus to what’s rated as one of the most grueling hikes in North America—a rugged wilderness described by trail alumni on YouTube as a place where nobody escapes a battered body. In fact, the Canadian Coast Guard and Parks Canada medevacs or otherwise rescues up to nine people a week from this stretch of ground—when only 52 people per day are allowed to enter the trail.
When I tell people where I’m going, I get two general responses. The first: “That sounds awesome!” and more often: “Not me. Why would you do that?” For the crowd who fall in that second camp, let me walk you through the reasoning.
Somewhere amidst the Hawaiian shirts and bridge-playing fogeys, French-fried buffets and almost-innumerable hand sanitizer dispensers, Crystal and I surrendered to tourism.
We smirked at the implication: America is vanilla.
“I’m going to miss this place.”
“Me, too, Tim. Me, too.”
Timmy and I ranked the adventures of our excursion in four categories: intensity, excitement, physical exertion, and nausea. You might be surprised by some of our responses.
So, as I savored the expectancy, I now begin to savor the reality.
It’s a lot to brag about in advance. Part of me likes that it will force me to the courage to do what I’ve theoretically wanted to do for years.
So, somewhere in there, I came upon New Zealand. And through a series of eliminations, I determined the only traveling companion who would work was Timmy.