It took a lot for me to continue writing, since my life is already so full, but after a month of non-stop work and being placed on lockdown for one year for my rigorous doctoral program, I realized that my responsibilities are enriching, but currently not getting my blood pumping. I then decided to revisit the reason why I aspire to be a travel blogger.
I grew up believing that my life would fall into place and make sense once I graduated from college and got a job, which for a first-generation student from a poor, but loving family, seemed like the only thing that mattered. But things still felt incomplete after I graduated and started my career. I wanted more. I wanted to see more. Despite my humble beginnings, I have traveled a lot in my life, as a child tagging along with extended family, and later, for work and hula and I’ve come to realize that traveling is my passion.
In Hawai’i, sacred and storied geographies are called wahi pana, but I like the more literal definition of a particular place with a “pulse”. As travelers, we adjust to the pace of a new city and its people, but when I arrive somewhere, I’m seeking that older pulse beneath the complicated roadways and mass transit systems, below the high rises and miles of development or untouched forest, to connect to the space in a different way. That pulse is what I’m interested in exploring when I step into a new place because once found, it really forces me to stop functioning as I always do and to recalibrate my own pace of doing things and as a result, I recenter spiritually.
I don’t travel to “find myself” because I need to adopt another culture to feel more like who I “really” am. On the contrary, I travel to reaffirm who I am and celebrate where I’ve come from. In the end, I reestablish a kinship to a place that’s bigger than Hawaiʻi and that always feels like home.