Seeking an expansive life

There’s a story that Taya and I revisit often, one that typically results in shared laughter and where the main character is a bag of cheese.

We were in Amsterdam. We had decided to stay a night after taking a train up from Brussels, which meant we were ill prepared but willing to make it work. Off the train and onto a boat tour, off the boat and into the cobblestone alleyways. We walked without a plan, feeling the freedom of time with our decision to stay a full 24 hours.

Hours in to our exploration, we end up in a cheese shop sampling local varieties. I decide to pick up a souvenir for my sister — a large wedge of cheese. In retrospect, this was a wild choice. Our suitcases were in Belgium, we had weeks of travel ahead of us, and I chose that our new travel companion was this aged, Dutch cheese.

We stepped outside of the shop into a downpour. The rain jackets marketed as waterproof proved to be absorbent, and the paper bag of cheese was looking sadder by the moment. Our re-entry into the hotel was chaotic — two drenched Americans giggling about being caught in the rain shower. As we waited for the elevator, our wet paper bag proved to be no match for our souvenir, which busted through the bottom and became dented by the floor.

This same cheese wedge caused me to be pulled aside by airport security in three separate airports.

This excursion to Amsterdam in 2022 was just one stop in our five country journey. Prior to that year, Taya and I hadn’t traveled internationally together. After securing new jobs, we decided to celebrate by seeing Brussels, Amsterdam, Paris, London, and Edinburgh over the course of two weeks. You wouldn’t know it from the photos, but it was full of tired feet, transportation delays, belly aches, and, by the end, a lot of grumpiness. We were inexperienced, but willing to make it work.

These inconveniences felt like a very small price to pay. There was no question whether or not we were willing to walk the miles or navigate the hiccups. Even when our feet hurt and our bodies felt depleted, we persisted in pursuit of experience. In pursuit of joy. And that was the result — memories full of joy that we will continue to revisit and retell.

I was thinking about this trip recently and found it so fun (and funny) to look back on. We truly barely knew what we were doing, but we were willing to do anything to make the best of it.

I thought of the cheese I was determined to get back to the states. I thought of the night we took a ride up to Montmartre and ran through the streets so we could watch the Eiffel Tower shine from the top of the city. I thought of the spontaneous decision to see Phantom of The Opera at Her Majesty’s Theatre and the look on Taya’s face when the chandelier rose.

This reflection made me realize just how inconvenient the trip was — discomfort was a constant. But we did not care; we didn’t even consider it.

It made me wonder: why are we so willing to pay the price of inconvenience for experience while traveling, but not willing to do the same in daily life? And further, what could life be if we were willing?

The default in everyday life is ease — it’s comfort. We prioritize removing friction and discomfort in order to make it more digestible, more safe. This has grown into our ongoing comfort crisis and I believe that it is robbing us of experience. It is robbing us of joy and robbing us of expansion. 

If you approached your life this week as if you were traveling, what would change? Would you explore neighborhoods you haven’t seen yet? Maybe sit in a park, talk to a stranger, or try a new coffee shop? When we travel, we approach our days with curiosity and excitement. We become vessels for experience, collecting moments like rainwater to nourish our lives. We become expansive and bold, willing to go outside of our comfort zones in pursuit of unbridled joy.

When I’ve thought about what this would look like for me, I learned how much I have been holding myself back. My limited view of what life can or should be acts as blinders, keeping me focused on maintaining a comfortable monotony instead of getting curious about what’s available to me.

I know that others also experience a deeper connection with themselves when they’re exploring streets of a new city, or taking in the beauty of nature they had not yet seen. When I’m away, the imaginary confines of my daily life fall away. What’s left is a version of myself that I reserve for these special moments — a version of myself that lives life more fully.

This is the me that I want to bring into my life. I want to remove the confines and approach every day with the same curiosity that I do on these “special” days. Because, truly, every day can be and is special if we so choose for it to be. Every day can be a rich memory that we seek to revisit time and time again.