I have returned from my worldwide trip three days ago. I visited a total of seven countries: South Africa, Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, Indonesia, and New Zealand. My two layovers were in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and Brisbane, Australia. I’m still processing what has happened over the last three months.

First, let’s talk about coming back to the U.S.

It was a doozy being admitted into my own country where I’m a citizen. Going through the security clearance was practically one step below being taken to an interrogation room. It was that kind of clearance. Usually I can walk on through without an issue. The TSA personnel scrutinized every minor detail. Every answer I gave was challenged. They took every little thing out and went through all of my receipts, clothes, and personal belongings. Even the coffee beans I brought back were opened and sniffed. (They smell good, don’t they?) My payment cards were taken out of my wallet to see if anything was hiding in the slots. They even went so far as to skim my sketchbook, calendar, and journal. They looked up all of my medications, both over the counter and prescriptions. I actually thought they would confiscate something, but that didn’t happen. It was nerve wracking to say the least. About half an hour later, they let me go.

I collect currencies and this is what’s left over from my travels: money from nine different countries. The TSA apparently frowns upon having a big wad of cash, as I learned from the rigorous screening. They asked what do I need all of that cash for, implying that it must be used for something illicit. When really, it was about $10-$15 worth of currency from each country. But it wasn’t worth converting back to US Dollars, because a percentage gets taken with the conversion. For starters, it should only be of concern if it’s $10,000 cash or more. I think they just wanted to give grief because they were bored. At least I have cash for next time!

Now I’m back in Seattle and wondering, “what the hell just happened?”

It is like waking up from a three-month dream. Practically nothing has changed here. But I know that I’m not exactly the same.

I went on this worldwide trip because a change was badly needed in my life. Every aspect of my life had stagnated, and travel was the only the only option left to give a jump start. My own world needed to be shaken up in order to move forward, so I made the decision to explore the one outside my own environment. Time to tear out old roots and plant new seeds, as the saying goes.

The extent of the changes will take months, perhaps even years, to sink in. What I can say for certain is that this journey took me out of my comfort zone in ways I’ve never experienced before.

I started off in South Africa to attend AfrikaBurn, where my social anxiety was swiftly confronted, and I found myself in a brand new community of friends who embraced emotional vulnerability. I then landed in Vietnam and got horribly lost while navigating among a language I did not understand. For the next seven weeks, I was immersed in the chaos and beauty of tropical Southeast Asia, perpetually in motion like a spinning top. I learned to negotiate prices as a confidence-building exercise and to not be sorry for what I want. I took a vegan cooking course in Vietnam. I ate the most delicious vegan food, petted the friendliest cats, and went on a meditation retreat in Thailand. I hiked up a volcano at 4 AM to watch the most breathtaking sunrise in Bali. I learned to ride a motorbike in Cambodia and was awestruck by the Temples of Angkor. I went scuba diving for the first time in Indonesia. I planted trees, weeded gardens, and volunteered my time at an urban farm in New Zealand.

But it wasn’t all sunshine, roses, and “a-ha” moments. The week after AfrikaBurn was spent fighting the debilitating norovirus. I got into more accidents in Southeast Asia than I could keep track of–which included sideswiping a motorcyclist on my bicycle in Vietnam. I fell on slippery rocks and broke my ribs in Laos. I literally ran into a car which put a dent in it, so I had to pay for damages in Indonesia. As if physical pain weren’t enough, halfway in my trip I had reached a turning point: My heart was shattered by a romantic interest back home at the same time one of my best friends shared that she has breast cancer. My weight dropped to nearly 120 pounds at my 5’9″ frame, and there were more 24+ hour benders than I could possibly count. There were nights where I truly felt like I was going crazy, especially in Southeast Asia, where I was all alone. It felt like nothing in the world could silence the fire raging through. The only option left was riding it out.

The more challenging parts also provided opportunities for growing emotional aptitude. It can be so easy to be swept away in a raging storm, and for me, the best I could do was take things one moment at a time. I may have been in hell some days, but it was the cleansing fire that burned out the old cobwebs of my psyche for new growth. A friend of mine had said, “don’t worry. Whatever happens, it always works out in the end.” I am grateful for the good parts of my trip and the bad.

This trip, with its good and bad parts, was a net positive to say the least. I’ve had to tackle my social anxiety by actually immersing myself in unfamiliar environments where I had no choice but to put faith in others. For most of my life, I was instilled with the belief that the world is a dangerous, scary place. In reality, most people around the world that I’ve met showed kindness and compassion. I was also led to believe that I was incompetent and not smart enough, and this trip has shown that maybe I’m actually more capable of things than I realize. It has built more solid confidence in me and others by really forcing myself to live in the outside world instead being so wrapped up inside my own head.

It had been a while since I felt that viscerally, thrillingly, brilliantly alive.

In New Zealand, the koru is a ubiquitous spiral symbol in Maori art for growth, change, new life, strength, and peace. It is based on the shape of a new unfurling silver fern frond. The outer shape of the spiral suggests perpetual movement while the inner coils show the return to the point of origin. It’s congruent with the belief that life is more of a spiral than a linear form. At the core is where the soul originates. As we grow, we sometimes return to the same point on whole new levels. We are in perpetual change, as nothing is permanent or pure.

“I’ve met travelers like you come and go. A lot of them are trying to find themselves or whatever light they are seeking. It could be the man who went though a divorce or the woman who is running from a traumatic past. Everyone has a story and happiness to find. But you know what, you don’t need to look so hard. You don’t have to go to the ends of the earth to find it. The light is already within you; it’s already there! You’re just still opening your eyes to fully see it.”

I shared that quote before in a previous entry. It’s from a conversation I had with the owner of a hotel I stayed at in Bali. It really struck a chord in me, as it was an encouraging reminder that every single person has inherent self-worth to begin with.

It’s what I’m actually beginning to see now.

I wish there was more to write about. I wish this blog entry was more detailed. But things are still sinking in, and as I said before, it will take a while before the entire experience is fully comprehended. It’s like a year of my life has been compressed to a period of three months. Now I’m back to where I started on a brand new level. Traveling the world solo has changed me in more ways than I can count.

Now that I’m back in Seattle, it’s time to decide where to go from here. Already I’m feeling restless from not having a next destination to go to, so…I’m planning an impromptu day trip to Portland tomorrow with my best friend, Brad. It’s a way to decompress after being set in constant motion.

Time to tie those boots on again.