There are so many costs to travel: Long plane flights and shifting time zones kill sleep. The lack of one’s usual spaces in which to do things like, you know, spin wild stories about adventures through time and space and magical worlds. Turns out those are easier to come by when staring out your own window rather than scribbling in a cramped airplane seat with a large man next to you snoring his day away.
There are benefits too: All the (friendly) people. The laughter. New places, foods, sights and sounds. Fodder that twines its way into the next story without you really realizing it.
And there are, of course, the things beneath the surface. I think travel represents an opportunity to get back in touch with yourself. You’re removed from your routine, so it’s easier to look back what you were doing and address inconsistencies, flaws and the parts that you’ve proceeded to ignore. To come to epiphanies. To form hypotheses that, far away from your home where you can test them, flourish and morph and refine themselves into something that you’re actually excited to implement upon your return.
Of course, that does mean you can set yourself up to fail. You can come up with some sort of grand idea on the road that, when actually executed, proves far beyond what one can normally handle. What you want to handle.
So I suggest this, based off of my own myriad experiences stopping and starting any of a 1000 different lifestyles:
Go forth with malleability.
Leave things flexible.
Allow your goals to bend, if not break.
This isn’t to say give yourself excuses, but rather to allow those things you have no control over, those moments that demand your time even if it’s unscheduled, to occur and not feel bad about them. Spend one night in an airport due to an airline’s mishaps, and you’ll see the value of this kind of zen attitude.
Life is going to change. All the time, whether you want it to or not. Accepting that gives you the greatest chance of moving towards where you want to go.