I decided to write this after I had a conversation with a friend who wanted this lifestyle. She wanted to sell all her things and travel the world indefinitely. And she wasn’t the first friend to approach me with this kind of plan. I couldn’t be sure, but I had the sneaking suspicion that she was mentally picturing a stellar Insta feed and epic stories to tell upon her return. She’d get those things, but it would be disingenuous to say that that’s all she’d be getting.

I wanted to tell her about standing on the bow of a sailboat off the coast of Australia. I had spent the day lounging on Whitehaven beach and snorkeling in between the Whitsunday islands. And yet, as I looked out over the ocean, I felt…empty. I felt alone on a boat full of people. I felt like this was yet another sunset, stunning to be sure, but not objectively better than a sunset off the coast of Kona, or Koh Tao, or Samara, or Santorini. I felt desensitized to the crazy beautiful landscape, and that scared the crap out of me.

You might think I sound like an entitled jerk. You might think I have no right to whine (more on that in a minute). “How dare he complain whilst bragging about his jetsetting?”

To be honest, I agree with you. There are some amazing things about how I’ve lived. Compared to the vast, vast majority of the world, I shouldn’t be complaining. But whenever I tell stories about who I’ve met and where I’ve been, I feel compelled to add “…but things aren’t perfect.”