Before I decided to begin chasing Neverland, I was chasing…What exactly? I felt as though I was sitting in the passenger seat of my own life. I was not making decisions based on passions or dreams, I was merely coasting through on the path that “made sense.”
I sat shotgun gazing absently out the window as each passing strip mall blurred with the next one. My girlfriend and I were on the way home from a weekend getaway. For the most part, the trip had been perfectly pleasant. Because it was the first time I had met her friends, much of the conversations oozed how cute we were and hope for the future. Was it the future I wanted right now, though?
I contemplated my descent into the world of domestication. We had both graduated college. I guess it was time to get serious about settling down. Pondering the world I was getting myself into, I felt an uneasy disquiet in my stomach. Hadn’t I spent the last couple years of college dreaming of the open road? Of unending possibilities and spontaneity? Didn’t I graduate when I did so that I could travel the world?
The discontent butterflies began to flutter harder at the thought of routine, a house, a car, a picket fence, a full time job… all good things, sure, and maybe even something I’d like one day. but… right now?
I snapped out of my reverie as some of the lyrics playing in the background pierced through the walls of my mind.
You’re just a lost boy with your head up in the clouds.”
The wings of the butterfly picked up speed, but this time it was excitement fueling their flight rather than unease.
You’re just a lost boy never keep your feet on the ground.”
The song, told from the perspective of a girl describing her former lover while she processed a lost relationship, felt like it was talking about me.
Too busy chasing stars…”
The flapping was making it hard to sit still. I thought about what it would be like to chase stars. To live my dreams of seeing the world. I pulled out my phone to “Shazam” the song (obviously). I took care not to seem too eager for fear she would see through me and know of my guilty delight. Peter Pan by Kelsea Ballerini.
Always gonna fly away just because you know you can. Never gonna learn there’s no such place as a Neverland.”
The flapping had reached a crescendo. I thought in that moment that if our relationship ended in heartache rather than church bells, it would likely be for similar reasons. It was in my blood. I was born to fly.
Chasing Neverland is Born
Fast forward one year, and I am on the verge of leaving for a trip with a one-way plane ticket and a haphazard plan. The world is before me, spontaneity is my partner, and I have quit my job to travel the world.
There is no getting around this fact: I am a sentimental sap. As such, I want to chronicle my journey 1. so my mother can be sure that I am safe and sound, but 2. so that I can look back on these days with fondness. Perhaps down the road I can also share these stories with my nieces.
I do not know when I will return to southeast Michigan. Some projections of my trip suggest it will be at least five months, but the reality is it could be shorter. Or much longer. And that is sort of the point. I didn’t quit my job–a program I have loved and invested six years of my life into–to have a comfortable return date in mind. I’ve always struggled with the idea of having my life planned out. For the first time in my life, I have no plan. No real security blanket. I couldn’t be more ecstatic.
Why the Name?
No, I am not a Peter Pan fanatic. I first thought of the name because of the Peter Pan imagery created by Kelsea Ballerini. To me the word Neverland evokes images of serene green landscapes and glistening blue oceans. It symbolizes freedom, adventure, and youth–a refusal to let dreams die in favor of succumbing to the “right way” we are told we must live. It embodies a world in which desk jobs and deadlines fade into the background and adventure takes center stage: where 401Ks and picket fences are exchanged for a backpack and a path up the mountain.
I was given over to wanderlust when I was nineteen years old. Since then I’ve learned that seemingly no amount of traveling can quench my thirst for new experiences; my aching for that next sunset over the glistening sea cannot be subdued. If I were to see every country in the world and visit each city, it would not be enough–it still would not appease my wanderlust.
To chase Neverland is to chase wanderlust itself: you can never land in Neverland. You will never stop one day and say “here it is at last! I’ve found it!” Yet we chase after it with each time we board that airplane with headphones in playing our newest anthem to adventure. With each bottle of wine uncorked with strangers turned friends. With each crimson streaked sunrise signaling a new day in a place we’ve never been, the chase continues.
I don’t plan to settle for a prototypical, normal life anytime soon. I’m running barefoot through the grass with arms outstretched to embrace a life brimming with possibility and hope. I am after my dreams. I am chasing Neverland. Will you run with me?