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The Same but Different: Traveling Indonesia

I love to travel. It’s another mystery to me--how can something that is, on its face, uncomfortable, be something that we long for. It’s proof to me that we were somehow made to do hard things--that it’s as important to our health as love. Love stinks. We all love a dozen or a hundred times before we find someone whose love we can key into. And even once we do key in with someone it’s a daily giving of ourselves to another person. So why do we do it? As I look around at my life I realize that most, (all?) of life’s good things come from hard pounding. Love,children, earnest friendships, fulfilling work and even traveling are difficult endeavors...

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