THE BACK-UP PLAN

You have a good chance at making some of your wildest dreams come true. Most people don’t even try, sadly. Most people try and then stop or give up. Very few people try, and try, and try, or do, and do, and do, and never give up. And those are the people who ultimately succeed and win.

– Jared Leto

I hate the idea.

The idea of a back-up, a Plan B, a safety net… The idea that you need a ‘realistic’ or ‘achievable’ dream.

I’ve had people stress the importance of a back-up plan my entire life. I’ve always been a dreamer, a creative type, and this lifestyle scares people. I knew from about the age of thirteen that I didn’t want to settle for some nine-to-five office job that simply paid the bills. I wanted something more, I wanted to create, and I wanted to do what I loved and what I dreamed of.

As I got older, and had to start seriously thinking about my future, I squashed my creative dreams in favour of a back-up plan. The things people say can inadvertently cause you to doubt and question your ability. To me, when people suggested that I think of a Plan B, I assumed that my creative talents weren’t enough for me to pursue the life that I wanted.

Recently, I’ve come to realise that you can achieve anything you set your mind to if you work at it. The first step is the most important one – so many people never take their first step toward their dreams, because they’ve settled for a back-up plan. I honesty believe that if you want something bad enough, you can make it happen. It won’t come easy – nothing good ever does – but it will be worth the effort. Pursuing dreams takes courage – it comes with the possibility of failure, and the greater the risk, the greater the fall. But if you don’t take that leap of faith, then you’ll never learn to fly.

People still try to convince me to settle for the easy option. To abandon what I really want to do with my life. I think people are scared of creative dreams. They don’t come with a salary. They don’t come with stability. But they come with so much more.

I believe there are two types of people: risk-takers and risk-avoiders. The risk-takers are the dreamers. The risk-avoiders are the pragmatists, the realists. There’s nothing wrong with being the latter – you’ll probably work in a well-paid job and own a lovely house and raise a beautiful family. But for the dreamers, this is not enough. There’s got to be something more. And you’ll never know unless you take the risk.

So I’ve abandoned my back-up plan. It’s never going to satisfy me. I’d spend my whole life wondering what could have happened had I just taken that first step. I’m chasing my dreams, and I’m not stopping until I achieve them. It will happen. I’ll make it happen.

Make yours happen too.

CREATING A TRAVEL MEMOIR

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I have a great memory. I remember faces, places, images, buildings, maps… Anything visual is imprinted in my mind. I wouldn’t call it a photographic memory – that implies some sort of superhuman remembering capability that I’m fairly certain I do not possess. But visually, my memory is 97% spot-on.

When it comes to anything aural, descriptive, numeric, or emotional… Well that’s a different story. I’ll remember a person’s face for years, but forget their name less than a minute after we’re introduced. I’ll remember a building’s location and façade, but have no idea of its name or function. I’ll remember how to navigate a maze of foreign streets to find my way back to my hotel, but I have no idea what the street next mine at home is called. In these respects, I have the memory of a goldfish.

This makes travelling both exciting and fairly natural for me, but it can also leave me feeling a little unfulfilled. Being a dominantly visual person, I always come home with thousands and thousands of photographs to sort through. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. This is a lie. A picture can’t tell you specifics – the name, place, date, function and history of a place. A picture also can’t relay the emotions that being in that particular location made you feel. It can’t remind you of the kind African man you met on the train and of the extremely sad and deeply touching conversation you had about his life. It can’t remind you of the woman feeding the cats behind you and your lens, nor of the charismatic old Italian tour guide who serenaded you with broken English love songs. These are the experiences that become the highlights of my travels, and never would have been if I hadn’t written them down.

This is why I journal. It doesn’t have to be long and boring, just a few sentences about what happened that day, the people you met, and the conversations you had. Some days you’ll be able to write pages; others you’ll have merely a sentence or two. Length isn’t important. But you’ll thank yourself six months down the track when you’re reading through, nostalgic about the experiences you had.

Journaling takes discipline. I can’t tell you how many trips I have taken and only made it a couple days in before giving up on my journal. In fact, it’s something I’ve only mastered in the last few years. I’ll let you in on my secret: routine. It’s so important to develop a journaling routine, and to stick to it! For me, I set aside some time before bed – sometimes only five minutes, but I’ll take however long I need to adequately describe the day I’ve experienced. Sometimes I miss days – sometimes I’m just too tired, or I’m out, or I’ve had a little too much vino – but the important thing is to pick up the pen on the next day and continue where you left off. The hard work is worth it, I promise!

So write your travel memoir – you’ll thank yourself for it later.