Collecting dust. Completely neglected. Wait, do I even know where it is?
These were the thoughts that ran through my mind earlier this year when I would think of, none other than, my passport. Oooooh, my dear, dear passport.
To fully grasp the dramatization above, you should first know that prior to becoming a photographer, I worked in the luxury travel industry, partnering hand in hand with hotels around the world on their marketing and sales strategies. Having not grown up traveling, I quickly realized how privileged I was to have my career intersect with my personal desire to explore the globe. Even after I moved to the West Coast, international travel was a huge pillar in my life as I am an explorer, foodie, and lover of how locals live.
This past year was, however, different: I didn't take an international trip, and frankly, between shooting weddings and taking on projects, travel took a backseat for me.
Earlier this year, I began to itch and have these sad thoughts about my passport. Even if time constraints did not allow us to fly to another continent, enough was enough: sandwiched in between a photography conference in Las Vegas and a business trip in Dallas, I decided that I needed to get away: hola, Puerto Vallarta!
After lots of tacos (Pachos Takos are everything!), ATV riding, and riding the public bus for cheap thrills, I ventured to nearby town Sayulita, and as I lay on the beach, I sighed with relief: this was never about my passport. This was about prioritizing, and balancing, the experiences that are life giving to me.
I are already planning my next trip, one that's been on my radar for several years, and my passport is clean and safely tucked away, yet ready to go at a moment's notice.