Following Questions Instead of Itineraries

Florence, Italy

Imagine lying on a warm, pillow-white beach—crisp sand beneath you, an ocean breeze clearing your senses. Seagulls call overhead, waves rise and fall along the shore, and for a moment your mind feels open, unburdened, almost new.

Life is good, you think to yourself.

This is one kind of travel. A beautiful one. And I hope everyone experiences it at least once.

But there is another way to travel.

Not toward rest alone, but toward something that lodges itself beneath the surface—something that stays with you long after you've returned home. This kind of travel doesn't simply refresh the body; it changes the way you see yourself and what it means to be human. The effects may be subtle or profound, immediate or slow, but the orientation is the same: travel not as escape, but as inquiry.

Let me offer an example.

While watching the show Civilizations, I learned about one of Seville's most revered Holy Week traditions. Just after midnight, the Virgin of Hope of Macarena is carried through the city in a slow, candlelit procession that has endured for centuries. Organized by the Hermandad de la Macarena, the ritual draws thousands into the streets—some walking alongside the paso, others watching in silence, many overcome with emotion. The Virgin's image, adorned in gold and deep green, is accompanied by spontaneous saetas sung from balconies—unpolished, aching expressions that blur the line between song and prayer.

What stayed with me were not conclusions, but the questions the filmmakers gently posed. Is this art in service of the divine—giving form to devotion? Or has art itself become the focal point of reverence? And beneath the beauty, the ritual, and the emotion, what are the worshipers truly worshiping? And does it actually matter?

I was struck by how a place I had never been could still invite meaningful inquiry. Even without standing in those streets, the tradition asked something of me. It reminded me that travel can begin long before arrival—and that questions themselves can be a form of pilgrimage.

Guatemala

What if we approached travel not primarily as consumers of experience, but as participants in inquiry? What if we followed a question instead of an itinerary? And how might that decision quietly shape the way we return to our lives?

This isn't mere philosophy—it's borne out by research on transformative learning and travel, including Jack Mezirow's work on adult learning and a phenomenological study by Susan Yelich Biniecki and Simone Conceição, which indicates that experiences marked by novelty, emotional intensity, and structured reflection are more likely to reshape how adults see themselves and the world over time.

In Yelich Biniecki and Conceição's study of adults who had lived or traveled in foreign locations, those who reported the most enduring impact described experiences that changed, confirmed, or broadened their beliefs about themselves and other cultures—shifts linked to identity development rather than to simply having seen the greatest number of sights.

In this broader literature, reflective questions and meaning-making processes function as anchors: they help travel memories resurface, deepen, and continue influencing worldview and life choices long after the journey has ended.

Itineraries move us through places; questions let places move through us.

Taos, NM

How to Prepare to Travel with Questions

Traveling with questions doesn't require special knowledge or spiritual expertise—only intention. Here are five practical ways to begin.

1. Choose a Question Before You Choose a Destination

Instead of asking Where do I want to go?, begin with What am I curious about right now?

Examples might include: What does it mean to be human in a place where life moves slower? How do other cultures make sense of loss, or celebration, or the passage of time? What traditions hold wisdom I haven't considered? What shapes a community's sense of belonging? Let the question guide your destination, not the other way around.

2. Research for Context, Not Mastery

Learn the history, culture, and traditions of a place—but resist the urge to arrive as an expert. The goal is orientation, not control. Leave space for surprise, contradiction, and lived encounter.

3. Slow Down Enough to Notice Yourself

Build margin into your days. Walk without headphones. Sit longer than feels productive. Pay attention not only to what you see, but to how you respond. Questions deepen when we notice our own inner movements.

4. Carry the Question Without Forcing an Answer

Let the question stay open. Journal without conclusions. Observe without resolving. Some questions don't want answers—they want attention. Trust that insight often arrives later, quietly.

5. Reflect After You Return Home

Transformation often happens after the journey ends. Revisit your notes. Notice what stayed with you. Ask how the question has changed—or how you have. Travel continues in reflection.

Travel doesn't have to deliver answers to be meaningful. Sometimes its greatest gift is sharpening the questions we carry—and teaching us how to live with them more honestly.

The most meaningful destinations aren't found on maps. They're discovered in the questions we're willing to carry.

Marfa, TX