I travel with my family, a lot. Travel, or adventure, really, has become a priority to us. Cash flow can slow to a drip. The car rusts, pings, gently begging fiscal attention. Our home awaits rehab, updates, perhaps a luxurious addition, for years on end.
But our priority is clear. Whenever we can, we always pack our bags.

And off we go.

Even now, I write these words several thousand miles above the heartland, fresh off the latest adventure. This time, it was a cruise through Alaska’s inner passage. It would be unwise of me to attempt to describe the splendor of this area in a few short paragraphs. It cannot be done, should not be attempted. Suffice to say I have seen more beauty, natural and otherwise, over the course of the past week, than in any other week of my life. And, if you ever have the opportunity to navigate, with a literal boat-load of new-found, like-minded friends, through a magical, mystical blanket of cool, moist fog to reveal soaring mountains and the astonishing sight of an enormous, jagged glacier, well, I think you should take it.

Now, I have not always led the adventurous life, not at all. The motto in my house growing up, whenever we passed through the front door and out into the world, was “No Busy Streets”. We never ventured far. We did not “vacation”. We stayed close, just in case. And as a result, our lives felt insular, fearful.

I have learned that, if we never cross life’s busy streets, we never get to know the world in any broad context. Our lives become tiny, marginalized. Before I crossed the busy streets, I over-focused on myself, under-focused on others. I missed the richness of the planet, and the people who inhabit it because, in the end, I feared what might be out there. Those who stay too close to home fear other people and cultures, simply because they are unfamiliar. And we fear we might not be capable of handling what the world has to offer.

We stay within the lines, and we live in fear.

Over the course of this Alaskan voyage, I found myself saying, in my mind, “You should see this.”, over and over again On deck the last day, I thought about this, and asked myself, who I am addressing? Without doubt, it’s my family. I want them all, alive or passed, to experience freedom from the “No Busy Streets” mantra.

I took a moment the other day to admire my son, scanning the ocean waves for whales, wind whipping wildly through his long brown hair. I contemplated all the places he’s been. All the people he has met.

All the joy.

So I encourage you to cross the busy streets. Cross them with abandon. Cross streets you’ve never considered crossing before. Find what’s out there. See the sights. Listen to the voices.

And when they’re ready (and they’re ready sooner than many of us think), fearlessly take your kids out there to do the same. Nudge them out the door. Show them that you believe they can handle crossing the busy streets. Teach them that by and large, life happens Out There.

Bon Voyage.