From Excuses to Excursions: How I Started Traveling the World

A sample of From Excuses to Excursions: How I Started Traveling the World

Chapter 1.1 — “The Dash”

No matter who you are or where you’re from, when it’s all said and done, your life will be remembered by three things: the year you were born, the year you died, and the dash in between.

Ever since taking off on this infinite journey abroad, I’ve set out to create the most adventurous-looking dash I’ve ever seen.

But my dash started out extremely malformed and bruised. At a young age, society and the media fooled me into believing I was weird. Ironically, I sort of am, but not in the sense that I used to believe.

And because I didn’t know how to channel my weirdness, I harbored a lot of negative energy that resulted in petty arguments at school, detentions, suspensions, and near expulsions for most of my teenage years. I know, I know, probably hard for some of you guys to believe if you follow me online now.

I remember when I recently shared the story of my troubled adolescence with a colleague and he warned me that I shouldn’t go around telling this to people because they’d judge me. I couldn’t understand where he was coming from with that. As if I should paint this false facade of perfection to be respected?

It’s actually through my honesty and transparency in my later years that I’ve been able to develop such deep connections with readers and strangers alike.

And it’s because of those humble beginnings and my troubled past that I’m able to appreciate so much of my journey now, because I easily could’ve been another statistic.

The truth is, we all know where we’d like to be in life (for 99% of us, this is probably somewhere on an exotic beach with Sallie Mae’s firstborn washing our feet), but the problem often lies in our confidence in the ability to get there with the vehicle we’re currently driving.

Can this job make me enough money to retire by "X" age?

Can this lifestyle grant me the opportunity to live life on my own terms?

Can my sexy husband please do this thing where he starts existing so we can repopulate a nation?

You know, asking the real questions here.

Some people might have more sturdy and financially secure vehicles (aka jobs) that can lead them down the road they hope their 50+ years in the workforce can afford them.

Others might be driving that old-school bucket with a model that ceased production decades ago. Ideally, it’s not the most reliable way to get to where you want to go, but a car is a car and you’re still getting to your destination faster than the person who would rather sit at home and wait until they have enough money.

In which they eventually buy the vehicle they think will get them to where they want to go. And by then, it’s usually too late.

You see, destiny is a crazy concept. I’m supposed to predict my future and take these small steps daily to ensure I get there. Yet if destiny has something else in mind, no matter what I do on my end, fate will eventually play its part...right?

WRONG.

I think fate follows your lead. You can’t say you want to do something in life and then never take any steps toward that goal, and then blame it on fate with the lazy excuse that maybe it "just wasn’t meant to be" for you to chase that dream.

But OH, WHAT IF IT WAS?

What if you were meant to apply for that position?

What if you were meant to take that trip?

What if you were meant to actually pursue the very thing that keeps you up late at night, dreaming of the day it becomes a reality?

WHAT IF you dared to live a life so terrifying that all your dreams actually came true? WHAT IF?

I ask myself this every day, because I live for this dream and die for this hustle.

I live for the growth. The experiences. The laughs. The pain. The memories. The struggles. The feats. The challenges. The answers. And ultimately, the never-ending questions.

In a world that praises the luck (but not the hustle) and envies the dream (but not the chase), be the outlier.

Have patience in the process and belief in the pursuit because the best part about "living the dream" is knowing how much you sacrificed to get there.

If you live a life so boldly and unapologetically, then life has no choice but to follow suit and command the reciprocation of luck and good karma to work in your favor.

So who am I? Why am I here? And why are you reading this book?

It’s simple. I’m nobody special, but I am somebody. Somebody with your interest in mind.

Like many others, the world painted this pretty picture of what my life was supposed to look like if I stayed in school, ate all my vegetables (sorry mom, still not happening), and worked a job to build someone else’s dream instead of trying to live my own.

The piece of art was all shiny and labeled with worlds like "financial security" and "The American Dream."

But something about this idea made me itch.

And not like a small tick on your arm, more like a crackhead catching the Holy Ghost. Contradicting, yes, but stay with me here.

Since I was 11 years old, I knew I wanted to be an entrepreneur.

It was career day in Mr. Miranda’s class and everyone was asked to go to a table that best described the profession they were most interested in.

Kids dispersed to the tables of doctors, teachers, firemen, lawyers, and more.

Meanwhile, I was left standing in the back, feeling alone, different, and overwhelmed by the number of tables and options, and yet none that accommodated my interests.

What was wrong with me?

After class that day, my teacher pulled me aside as I was fighting back the tears from feeling left out. He told me that despite my attitude and stubbornness, he thought I’d make a great entrepreneur.

I went home that day and researched "entrepreneurship" and at 11 years old, I knew from that day on, that was my destiny and that’d I’d never settle for anything less.

Entrepreneurship became the highlight of my dash, and whether or not you’ve figured out the highlight of yours, know that it’s never too late to begin polishing, coloring, or sharpening the dash of your life that future generations, friends, and family will all remember you by.

Grow your dash.

Know your dash.

OWN YOUR DASH.

Don’t let the size of your dreams intimidate you.

Chapter 3.4 — “Secrets To Taking Stunning Travel Photos”

It’s hard to live in a culture where vacations and travels are judged by the pictures you share of them. Yes, some can argue that’s not always the case...and those are the same people who have albums worth of memories splattered across social media. So there’s that. I mean, it’s 2016. Pictures tell a thousand words of stories that we hardly do justice for without graphic evidence.

In a perfect world (I’d be married to Channing Tatum), we’d all be able to hire private photographers to follow us everywhere on trips, snapping every candid (read: staged) moment, and making us look like the supermodels we all could be if fast food chains and Nutella didn’t exist.

When I go through my emails, one of the most common questions I get asked by readers is who my photographer is, to which I usually answer with Joe Schmoe from Germany or South Africa or Brazil, because it’s just the helping hand of strangers everywhere.

Pictures can be direct reflections of our trips because for a moment, we feel like we’ve frozen time and turned it into this beautifully crafted Instagram-worthy moment that people near and far can gaze at or draw inspiration from.

Even after I listed the many reasons why a photographer makes one of the best travel companions, I still prefer solo travel when it comes to jet-setting, and although there will be awkwardness in the initial approach of finding someone to take your picture,

The supplied excerpt ends here, mid-sentence.