4 Painful Life Lessons From 4 Months of Traveling the World
A bittersweet end to the most adventurous chapter of my life thus far.
Traveling, in my experience is not the way that most people write about it or think it is.
Yes — it offers you new experiences and the possibility of personal growth, but this comes at a cost.
If there’s anything that I’ve learned in the last 4 months of traveling and doing Jiu-Jitsu and writing in different, it’s how heavy this cost can actually be.
The cost is a physical one — traveling impacts your health and your wallet a great deal (it cost me a car)— but the cost goes deeper than that. The longer you travel, the higher the existential cost of traveling becomes. The longer you travel, the less you are tied to any place at all.
The longer you aren’t tied to any place at all, the greater the possibility of outcasting yourself and feeling lonely.
I’ve spent the last 4 months traveling non-stop, living out of my suitcase in hotels, friends’ houses, and Airbnbs, eating at airports and strange restaurants, and doing Jiu-Jitsu everywhere I’ve gone. I’ve found community in some places, but the cost has finally outweighed the benefit.
These are the 4 most painful lessons I’ve learned from 4 months of constant travel.
I’m glad it’s over, but I know I’ll miss it.
You can only do one thing well at a time.
Even “one thing” is asking a lot for most of us.
The more I’ve been on the road, the more open to possibilities I’ve become. Instead of looking at the world through a lens of “scarcity”, I feel that I’ve gotten a bit of a taste of just how vast the world really is and how much opportunity is really out there if you just dig for it a bit.
You know that sense of wonder and adventure that you get from movies?
That feeling seems to be closer to “the truth” of reality than the scarcity mindset that most people walk around with. You can achieve more, be more, and experience far more than you likely think is possible.
However, just because you can do pretty much anything doesn’t mean you should try and do it all right now.
Right now, I’m working on a book/ebook (more info on that soon!), an online store/new website, my Jiu-Jitsu training and competing, ghostwriting for one client, and building a new side hustle in the ghostwriting space.
I’m doing a lot of different things, and my traveling has made it ever so clear to me that I can only do one thing well at a time.
You have to be present in whatever you are doing. Then, you have to recuperate and begin the next task. Zig-zagging is terrible for productivity, and multi-tasking is the path to more anxiety, not more success.
If you truly give your all, failure hurts less.
This is a nice lesson, but learning it hurt a lot.
I’ve failed a lot this year.
In March, I had a few painful losses in Jiu-Jitsu. Going into these matches (in hindsight), I feel that I was holding back in my preparation. I was not doing everything that I possibly could to be the best athlete possible. I was training and I was in shape, but I was not prioritizing my personal growth as an athlete to the extent that I had in the past.
As a result, when I lost, I felt like sh*t about myself.
However, at many other points in my career, when I’ve lost I’ve been able to hold my head high because I’ve left it all out on the mat and done the best I can to prepare.
Likewise, when I write things and edit them carefully, I’m proud even if they don’t perform amazingly.
It sounds corny, but this is the truest life lesson I’ve ever learned.
Everyone gets anxious about the possibility of failure. Some people get so anxious at the possibility of failure that they choose not to participate or put themselves out there.
I feel this a lot in Jiu-Jitsu, but it goes deeper than that.
In pretty much anything in your life, if you just try your best, you will solve a lot of your anxiety problems.
Don’t believe me? Fine.
Give it a try.
The power of shutting the f*ck up.
When I was traveling, my life was constantly in motion, all the time.
I was always training, lifting, writing, or exploring wherever I was. I was, without fail, always doing something. What I didn’t realize was that this nonstop adventure and hustle was distancing me from happiness, success, and everything else that I was seeking.
I was more productive but less creative. I was more active but less fit.
I stopped being mindful, I stopped being thoughtful, and I just hustled every chance I had.
There was no peace and because of this, there was not nearly as much happiness as there should have been.
I’m not complaining about all the cool experiences I got to have (like competing in an international Jiu-Jitsu event or driving across the southern United States or going to Mexico), but I am noticing that experiences are like meals.
It’s smarter to digest your last one before you have another.
A few simple ways that I’m working on “digesting” my travels and experiences are by walking and writing. This allows me to think about what I’ve done and where I’ve been — carefully.
If you have no routine, you will have no success.
Honestly, f*ck “the grind”.
I’ve lived my entire life constantly grinding toward goals, taking chances, betting on myself, and hustling so that I could live the life that I wanted.
I’ve succeeded in this way in many regards, but it is not because I “hustle”. The reason that I have success is due to resilience from failure, support from friends, family, and community members, and following a routine.
I’m strong because I’ve lifted weights 2–4 times per week for nearly 10 years. I’m good at Jiu-Jitsu because I’ve trained daily since 2015. I’m a component writer because I edit my work and have practiced nearly every single day since 2020.
The caveat is that I don’t view these things as “a grind”. They’re things that I love to do and would do whether or not they were my job.
I competed in and taught Jiu-Jitsu for free for years. I went to the gym and worked out even when I hated my body and felt like dogsh*t. I wrote articles for an email list of 20 subscribers for 6 months.
But this doesn’t make me a hero.
I just liked the activity, made it a part of my routine, and followed the routine for years.
That’s not “grind”, that’s “consistently practicing things I love”. It’s way better than embracing the grind, and way more sustainable too.
When I was traveling — although I was doing the things I loved — I was completely removed from the routine that made me able to travel in the first place. Going forward, this will change.
Closing Thoughts
Given the nature of what I do (professional Jiu-Jitsu), the traveling is not going to stop any time soon.
However, the most important lesson I learned from these few months on the road is that the most important thing to have in your life is a place that feels like home and allows you to pursue your goals as best as possible. If you belong nowhere, you will struggle to get anywhere — no matter how many stamps you get on your passport.
My biggest goal over these next few months is to get a new apartment and settle into a routine that allows me to push toward my goals in life, writing, and Jiu-Jitsu.
I don’t regret a second of my travels, but I’m ready to find a routine that is sustainable.
I’m ready to feel at home — for the first time in a long time.
More articles from this week:
A personal piece on my childhood wiffleball career:
A reflection piece on my match in Austin 2 weeks ago:
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