Jason Law

The choice between security and adventure is a dilemma that plagues many of us, but perhaps troubles none more so than those who live a life of long-term traveling.

I have been travelling and living in countries other than my native UK for the past eight years, and have frequently struggled with deciding whether security, or adventure, bring me the most contentment. To me, security means a steady income, a place to call home, and familiarity. Adventure on the other hand, means new sights, fresh experiences and different people.

To someone who lives a life of adventure, just the thought of security could be enough to make them yawn or gag. For those comfortable with their surroundings who enjoy the sense of consistency that security brings, adventure can be unimaginably anxiety-inducing.

Personally, I have reacted both ways to both ideas. When I graduated from university, with the world at my feet and a million different options of what to do with my life yet the inability to pick one, I knew that there was at least one thing I wanted to do – see the world. To do that however, I needed money, and so I got a comfortable office job in London, with the plan to save up for a while.

That was the first time I experienced what I’d call ‘security’. I had a place to live (it was my mum’s house, but I paid rent!), a decent monthly income, and a job I was performing well at. I felt secure, but I also felt incredibly bored.

The boredom was comforting though. As a rather anxious person, knowing what to expect from each day gave me a sense of safety. I’d make the same daily commute, I’d interact with the same friendly faces at work, watch the same Netflix shows in the evenings, and then see the same groups of friends at the weekend. Yet as secure as I felt, I couldn’t shake that yearning for something else.

It can be hard to distinguish between security and boredom. I’d find myself zoning out on the bus to work, weeks would fly by in what felt like a few days, and I’d talk about the same old stuff with the same old people. I’m not sure if that meant I was bored, or if everything just felt continuously familiar.

The consistency in daily events started to make me doubt whether I actually wanted to go and travel. I had good friends, money, and I was in (what some call) one of the greatest cities in the world, London, which brought with it the promise of seemingly endless opportunities.

Looking back, I now see those things as a trap rather than something to hold on to in life.

After eight months at my job, I decided to stay true to what I’d originally promised myself following my graduation and venture out to see what was out there in the world. I handed in my 30 days notice at work, applied for a 90-day Indian visa and booked a one-way flight to New Delhi.

The words ‘nervous’, ‘anxious’ and ‘scared out of my wits’ don’t even begin to describe how I felt in the lead up to my departure. But the ways we characterize anxiety are not too far from what excitement feels like, so you could say I was excited too.

Over the next few weeks I did the things you’re supposed to do before you go off on an adventure abroad – buy the essential accessories and gear (my first proper backpack!), get the necessary jabs and say my goodbyes to my nearest and dearest. I’m not ashamed to admit I bawled my eyes out when I said goodbye to my best friends but that could’ve been due to the hangover from my farewell party…

As I’d only booked a one way flight, saying goodbye felt completely uncertain. I had the (at the time) naïve plan to go to Delhi for two weeks, then to Australia for a few months and then back home. I wasn’t sure whether to say “see you in a few months!” or just to leave the farewell completely open-ended.

I left for India in February 2015, on my first solo adventure, and since then I have never actively sought out security again. Leaving the comfort of my London life and job was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done, but when I look back now I see it as the bravest.

They say life begins at the end of your comfort zone, and ‘they’ are right. My departure set the stage for the next several unforgettable years!

After only three days in New Delhi, I met a group of people who would go on to become long-term travel buddies. I’d never been great at meeting new people, but this spontaneous trip brought out a more adventurous side of me. We travelled to Pushkar together, and I ended up driving a motorbike (for the first time!) across Rajasthan. I spent three months travelling through India meeting new and incredibly interesting people, trying mind-blowing food and seeing a country with enough culture and geographical diversity to fill a continent.

I spent two months in the majestic Nepal, hiking the Himalayas and meditating in Lumbini, the birth place of Buddha. After that, it was time for two months In Thailand where I island-hopped and trekked through jungles, before spending two months In Cambodia checking out ancient temples and living in a beachside bar.

I had gotten a taste of adventure and from then on, my thirst was unquenchable.

Nine months into my Asia travels, my funds ran low and I flew to Perth, Australia with 300 dollars to my name and within a week I was working in sales and hospitality. I made tons of new friends, fell in love (more than once!), got an apartment in a building filled with other travelers and was having the time of my life. I took a road trip across Western Australia before settling down in Broome for six months.

Then it was off to Vietnam for three months biking from South to North. Then volunteering in Hanoi. Then travelling to Europe, to Malaysia, Thailand again, Laos and back to Vietnam. After 17 months working in Vietnam I drove around South America living in the back of a van, waking up to a different landscape every day.

I could go on describing the adventures I’ve had but you get the point – I lived a life filled with adventure. And I regret none of it.

I did eventually settle down somewhere, unintentionally. I just spent four years teaching English in Vietnam after returning there for a third time. I had a well paid, steady job, a home, a group of loving friends and a familiar routine. But that longing for adventure couldn’t be shaken off! I had to force myself to take the plunge and leave Vietnam in search of more adventure, wherever I can find it.

Now that I’ve once again given up my security, I find myself wondering if in my old age I’ve lost that sense of curiosity and desire for adventure.

I felt my life stagnating the longer I stayed in the same job in Vietnam, despite loving the work and being in an incredibly beautiful country. I was earning enough to save the majority of my monthly income while still going on regular holidays, eating out at restaurants daily and renting my own large apartment. I knew most of the people in my local area and never felt lonely. But it wasn’t enough and now I’m once again at a position where I have almost unlimited options on what to do next, feeling both anxious and excited at the same time while I visit London and decide where to go next.

Half of me wonders why I left the security of my life in Vietnam.

The other half is trying desperately to reconnect with that thirst for adventure that I felt all those years ago.

I imagine that this must be how millions of other people feel – wondering if security and stability are better than a life of constant moving, exploration and alien environments.

I know that many of my friends who stayed in London envy the freedom I’ve had. Others worry about my lack of roots.

On the other hand, out of the hundreds of travelers I’ve met around the world, many would scoff at the mere idea of the domestic, settled-down lifestyle. Others have grown weary of the constant moving and lack of permanence in their lives.

At the end of the day, everybody is trying to find happiness. For some, that can be found in security; in family, in a place to call your own, in a job you go to day in, day out.

For me? I say life is too short. We get one turn at enjoying this planet and all it has to offer, and I plan to spend as long as I can soaking in as much of it as I can. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll find somewhere I want to call home permanently. Or maybe, just maybe – Planet Earth is my home and I can be happy anywhere I go.

Jason Law