Part 12: Why Do We Travel? To Think

AND WE TRAVEL

Why do we travel? For too long we have taken this issue for granted. Travel can make our big world seem small, and we forgot what a gift it is until it was all taken away from us not so long ago. Today we return to the skies in record numbers, but with a more grateful mindset. This is the perfect moment to take stock. Participants “AND WE TRAVELThis series features accomplished writers from all walks of life. Throughout this series they will explore the diversity of our travel destinations – not just where and how, but why. On behalf of Toronto Pearson Airport and the Airports Council of Canada, please enjoy.

IIt is common knowledge that traveling broadens your horizons. Like most truisms, this is only partly true. Yes, travel expands your world, but it does so at the expense of narrowing it.

I was recently reminded of this delightful paradox when I did something seemingly ordinary: check into a hotel. It was a DoubleTree, not particularly luxurious and definitely not exotic, located less than a mile from my home near Washington, DC. But as I pulled out my key card and entered the room, which had been sanitized for my convenience, I exhaled. I might think again.

My delight came not from what the hotel offered, but from what it lacked, namely, a house full of crap, literally and figuratively, due to a sewer “situation” you don’t want to know about.

That's why I travel, I thought, not to expand my life, but to narrow it. To contain it. At home, clutter—both physical and mental—threatens to suffocate me. It's not like that in hotel rooms. Life on the road is limited and manageable, which is why I find it so appealing. For me, a pared-down life is a better, happier life. Travel frees me from myself. Unencumbered, I can breathe again.

I can think too. There is something about movement that sparks creative thoughts. This has been true for a long time. Charles Darwin's promising theory of evolution arose while he was riding in the back of a carriage. “I remember that very place on the road… when, to my joy, the solution occurred to me,” he later wrote. Lewis Carroll recalled with equal clarity the moment when, in a boat floating on a pond, listening to “the tinkle of drops falling from the oars, as they swayed so sleepily back and forth,” he imagined a magical underworld and a girl named Alice who visited it. Mozart always traveled with scraps of paper tucked into the side pocket of his carriage, “for it is on such occasions that my ideas flow better and more abundantly. Whence or how they come, I do not know; and I cannot force them.”

I'm no Darwin or Mozart, but I'm also the most creative on the road, or rather on the rails. I can think on the train. I can't think on a plane. I can't think on the bus. Not even a little. I suspect it has something to do with different sensations or perhaps it is associative; buses remind me of childhood trips to school and camp, of places I didn't want to go. Trains take me where I want to go and do it at the speed of thought. Either way, I crave that rare combination of space and comfort that only train travel can provide. And there's something about train travel—the swaying and the scenery rushing by that you can admire or ignore—that encourages creative breakthroughs. It's not just me. Several great minds did their best thinking on a train, including Scottish physicist Lord Kelvin and author JK Rowling, who dreamed up Harry Potter while sitting on a late train.

Traveling showered me with inspiration and inexplicable electrical charges of creativity. It also helped me overcome fear, embarrassment, and impostor syndrome. I became more patient with myself and less attached to the outcome.

As a young adult, I stumbled through life in search of clarity and purpose (and, let's be honest, dopamine). I often felt left to the mercy of fate. Living on another continent both liberated and grounded me. For the first time, I gave myself carte blanche not only to write passionately, but also to do things that I considered the prerogative of others. I studied photography and film projection, took piano and taekwondo lessons, learned to cook, meditate and speak Korean, and, after a lifetime of thinking I couldn't carry a tune, sang my heart out at noraebang (karaoke). In my spare time, I made floor lamps out of chopsticks. Traveling showered me with inspiration and inexplicable electrical charges of creativity. It also helped me overcome fear, embarrassment, and impostor syndrome. I became more patient with myself and less attached to the outcome. Art stores grounded me, offering cultural understanding and a sense of belonging.

Where do we travel

“My English childhood was full of fond memories of travel, including family trips to Italy and hours of watching BBC's Around the World in 80 Days with Michael Palin. So it seemed natural that I would end up working in the airline and airport industry. But my professional life has also made it clear that travel is not just a holiday, it's not just a 'nice to have'. In a complex world it connects people, cultures and economies. It may sound cliché, but it really does make the world a better place. It's hard to overstate how important this personal contact can be. I travel less than before because I have two small children. But they have been to Mexico and visited family in England, and they will grow up understanding how important travel is to our family. And how important it is for our community. Winnipeg – square in Canada, our airport (YWG) is a vital link to the rest of Canada and beyond – not only for our city, but also for the northern Manitoba communities that rely on us as a hub for supplies and healthcare. Our airport is not just one city, and it is definitely not just a “nice to have” airport. We take this responsibility very seriously.”
Nick Hayes Winnipeg International Airport CEO Richardson

What explains this connection between travel and creative thought? The answer, I think, lies in one word: focus. People are like racehorses. We pay attention to what is in front of us. Peripheral vision slows us down and sometimes scares us. So, a good journey is like good blinders: it allows us to focus on what really matters. And if genius is knowing what to overlook, as the philosopher William James said, then we are more likely to achieve something like genius, or at least creativity, down the road where there is less to overlook and more to see.

Like many people, I experience occasional bouts of minimalism. I dutifully bought Marie Kondo’s book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, thereby making my clutter worse. I confess: I have never read it. It seemed too scary. Sure, I could spend weeks, months, going through the mountain of things I've accumulated, looking for those few things that spark joy, but who has that much time? Travel instantly changes my life.

There's more than just sleight of hand going on here. The dirty little secret of traveling is that it's a parlor trick, a mind game. On the road we are the same people as at home. You may feel more romantic in Paris or more thoughtful in London, but those cities, as wonderful as they are, can't take all the credit. So why the transformation? Because there you allow yourself to be romantic or wistful – or whatever – and you are. Whatever you experience while traveling, you can experience at home. It's just much more difficult. Parlor tricks and a little self-deception are helpful.

The magic begins even before we leave the house. The number one rule of smart travel is to pack light. The ideal luggage is large enough to hold almost, but not quite, as much as I need. It makes me want to curate. Do I really need to cite the complete works of Tolstoy in the Russian original? Do I really need this whole set of alpaca sweaters or will one suffice? I take light with me not because it is virtuous or environmentally friendly, but because it allows me to think more clearly. A traveler throws away unnecessary things for the same reason that an aeronaut throws out ballast: to fly higher and thereby look far beyond the horizon.

Eric Weiner is a former international correspondent for NPR and the author of four books, including The Geography of Bliss, Socrates Express, and Ben and Me.

Explore the rest AND WE TRAVEL row.

Part 1: Let's go meet our neighbors
Part 2: We travel to experience awe
Part 3: We travel to relive our past lives.
Part 4: We Travel to Make Family Memories
Part 5: We travel to try the unknown
Part 6. We travel because nature is everywhere.
Part 7: Traveling to enjoy beauty
Part 8. We travel for a challenge
Part 9: We Journey to Heal
Part 10: We travel to be transformed
Part 11: We travel to call the muse

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