To wander is to live.

To wander is to live.

I am waiting for a plane to fly me across the world to breathe the fresh air of a new place. I am waiting for the promise of adventure, of escape, of freedom, of diversity and of happiness. I am waiting.

I see a mother hugging her son. I see a father giving his daughter a kiss on her forehead. I see a couple embracing. I see a sister crying as she waves good bye one last time to her brother. I see a businessman carrying his briefcase like it contains the world and it does. It contains his world. An airport where teary “goodbyes” are said and enthusiastic “hellos” are received.

As a plane takes off, you leave your comfort zone. You leave all the you know to be true and you enter the horizon of the unknown. You are left to face the unexpected, to do the unexpected and to even be the unexpected. You leave the people who pick you up when you fall, who text you on your birthday, who remember to buy your favourite chocolate when they go grocery shopping and who make sure that you’re okay always. You leave your family and friends who love and support you unconditionally.

A gypsy, a wonderer, a hippie, a vagabond. To wander is to live. Embrace the lifestyles of others. Sing along to a foreign song. Pray in the desert and pray on cement, pray amongst the clouds and pray on land. Scream and listen to the echo shout in a cave. Hike to the top of a mountain with just your backpack. To wander is to live.

Reflect upon good memories and make new ones. Send a postcard home and Skype your little brother. Buy flowers from a cart and give it to the old lady sitting on the bench. Take long walks under green trees in a park and swim in a river. Embrace the sunshine and dance in the rain because to wander is to live.

New York City, the city that never sleeps, the surreal view from the 102nd floor of the Empire State Building, the boat ride to the Statue of Liberty, the people that never stop moving and the desire to fulfill all of your dreams. London, home of Harry Potter and red double-decker buses that wind the busy streets of the central business district passing through Oxford Road after gazing at the London Eye. Paris, the city of love and lights illuminating the world as we know it, discovering the beyond through a telescope in the Eiffel Tower or the artistic splendour of the Louvre. India, the greatest concrete gesture of love in the form of the majestic Taj Mahal, the aroma of Indian spices and the freedom to spend money without worrying about the exchange rate. Deep sea diving in Costa Brava, painting the town red at the Tomatina festival in Bunol and screaming amongst a stadium packed with fans for Ronaldo in Madrid. They call it South Africa, but I call it home, the breathtaking view from Table Mountain, the roar of a lion in the Kruger National Park, the scream as your adrenalin races on a rollercoaster in Gold Reef City and the satisfaction after eating Dinky Donuts on the Durban beachfront. Experiance it all because to wander is to live.

Ultimately, we want our home. But home is where the heart is. In a seat of a plane amongst the clouds, in prostration in front of the Ka’bah, in my mummy’s hugs, within the pages of a Harry Potter book or in the words that flow through my pen. My home is everywhere my heart wants it to be.

We used to say the sky is our limit but now it’s our point of view. Everything I want to do, I can do. Everything I want to see, I can see. Everything I aspire to be, I can be. Fly high but be humble. Work hard and remain steadfast. Have courage and be kind. Live for every moment because tomorrow might not be. Forgive those that have hurt you and spread positive vibes only. To wander is to live.

As it is done in the airport, say every goodbye as if it were your last and speak every hello as if you are sure of the promise of tomorrow. And remember, to wander is to live.

 

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