What do people travel for? Where does the impulse to explore come from? Is it from dissatisfaction with where we are, or the allure of the infinite horizon? Does the latter cause the former? Is there even a difference between the two?
Does knowledge of what’s out there compel us to get up, get out, and see it for ourselves, or do we head out because we have no idea what’s going on out there and we need to know? Am I exploring because I want to find a different place to live, or is exploration itself the lifestyle I desire? Do I even need to move on the physical plane to explore?
Is there any thing, any real value, out there beyond my horizons that is not available to me in the Here and Now, if only I knew how to look? If I were at peace with myself, really truly at peace with myself, would I want to go anywhere at all? Is my movement driven by hope or fear? Which is stronger: the fear of changing, or the fear of never changing?
Am I comfortable or happy? Is fear to be backed away from or broken through? What are the consequences of both? What’s weighing me down? What should I give up? What would I give it up for? If it keeps me up at night, should I use the daytime to push it aside or face it head-on? Am I unhappy or merely uncomfortable?
Are my motives selfish? Is it wrong to be whimsical, romantic, fantastical? Who wins: rationality or sentimentality? Is it better to die following your heart than live following your head? If my inner world does not resonate with my outer world, which should I try to change?
Is it a sign of complacence or inner peace to be happy when things don’t go your way? Is it wrong to feel peace in the face of so much turbulence? How many times can I fool myself into thinking that peace and happiness come inward from the outside? How many times will I remember before it finally sticks? If I’m not looking for happiness, what am I looking for?
Am I looking for anything, or am I just looking?
How many shop attendants have I told “No thank you, I’m just looking” only to leave empty handed? Is this just a larger scale of the same thing?
Do you learn to love what you have, or hold out for the Big One? Does it have to be one or the other? Is there a Big One? Big what? Do we keep striving for the Perfect Job in the Perfect City, where we live with our Perfect Spouse and our Perfect Children, and on the weekends, we see our Perfect Friends? Or perhaps we’d rather look for the Ideal Philosophy, the Right Worldview, Good Habits, and Perfect Balance, and the ability to make the Right Decisions in all scenarios. How close to these can we come in this lifetime? Why would we even weigh ourselves down with these concepts? Why should we assume that perfection is anything more than a mirage on the horizon? Why should we assume that perfection is anything other than what IS?