Why You Should Travel Differently
And How American Culture Fails Americans
“You’re gonna die,” my brother Damon said.
“Maybe, maybe not…” I respond, thumbing through some paint cans. “But I’m done painting. I’m done with the real estate game for a while. I just need a change. I need to challenge myself in a new way.”
“You don’t even know how to sail.”
“No — but I’ll learn.”
My younger brother glanced at me and back to the glistening white wall he was rolling. He had white paint stains on his brown carpenter jeans and a black beanie. He kept his eyes staring forward. I could tell he wanted to say more.
Or talk me out of leaving for the Caribbean with no sailing experience.
But he had responsibilities.
A job.
A wife.
A life.
“I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. If I die, I die. Life is an adventure. I’m not made to not question my existence.”
“I understand.”
“ I love you brother. Thank you for letting me stay with you.”
“Anytime.”
Regardless if it was safe or not, I knew it was time to leave America again — a place…
