Yesterday, I felt it yet again. It was an energy brooding deep within my belly, gradually rising to my throat and throughout each of my gangly limbs. It’s the same way that bloods pumps around my body; it’s a feeling of lightness and heaviness all at the same time. It warms my body then makes it icy cold at a moment’s notice.
I have been feeling these bouts of restlessness for as long as I can remember. When restlessness takes over, it’s a difficult feeling to shake sometimes. Oftentimes, restlessness happens mildly. But sometimes, restlessness overtakes my body like a fast-paced freight train. As it hurtles through me, it rattles me to the point where I can no longer ignore it.
I spent most of my early life travelling to various parts of Australia in the back of a four-wheeled drive on long camping trips, and even uprooting to live in two other states in Australia other than Victoria, my state of origin. I’ve always loved travel and exploring. I’ve loved getting out there are finding out about the unknown. What if we go to this place? What if we live there? Later in life I started travelling overseas. And, again, that familiar restlessness, partnered with those ‘what ifs’ would rise within me. This is what happened yesterday when I was reminded about my upcoming trip to Sri Lanka later this year. As restlessness rose within me and started to take its hold over me, all I could think was: “I wish I was I was flying out tonight.”
Some might argue that this is wanderlust weaving its magic. I beg to differ. Urban Dictionary defines wanderlust as “a very strong or irresistible impulse to travel” and a “strong longing for or impulse toward wandering”. To me, this definition implies that we as travellers just want get out there and wander when we long for it, to not deny ourselves of travel. I’ve spoken to the topic of wanderlust on numerous occasions; the concept of wanderlust is no stranger to me.
Restlessness, or rather restless, is defined by the Cambridge Dictionary as “unwilling or unable to stay still or to be quiet and calm, because you are worried or bored”. I’m also a self-confessed (and personality tested) introvert. So, this definition seems to be at odds with my natural personality traits. I don’t see my restlessness as the perfect fit to Cambridge’s definition. The restlessness emerges from within and stays lodged within my mind more often than not. It’s internalised rather than expressed outward. I also feel there’s a sense of negativity to Cambridge’s definition of restlessness.
Let’s take a moment to flip Cambridge’s take on restlessness for the sake of vegan travel. Sure, it may be hard to stay quiet or calm in moments of vegan travel uncertainty. We start thinking: “Where can I travel to in order to partake in an optimal vegan travel experience?” This is when we can put restlessness into positive action. We can put it to work for a good cause. Our restlessness can thus be the impetus for us to discover new destinations, new local vegan businesses and meet new vegan people who can inspire us further in our vegan travels. Then, we arrive home with fresh, new ideas and schools of thought that will help fuel our future vegan travels long after we return home. Boredom can never really survive in this context.
When we allow our restlessness to feed a sense of boredom, then we’ve missed the point of its potential completely. The key is to commandeer restlessness before it gets to this point of boredom. It may seem backward, but if we know what restlessness feels like within each of us we can then use it as a tool for inspiration. Otherwise, we just get stuck in a travel rut and that’s not a safe place to brood in no matter what stage we are in our vegan travels. The trick is to feel into our restlessness and steer it with an open-minded, positive mind frame that will benefit all beings we encounter.
So, how do you commandeer your restlessness in a way that inspires your vegan travels? I’d love to hear about your experiences in the comments below.
