We go out, fueled with the desire to put our pushpins on our wall maps when we get home. We run rampant like wildfires into the globe, devouring as many locations as possible. We are nomads, we are travelers, and we are the next generation.
As children, our parents pushed us into social activities and educational avenues. When we became old enough to choose hobbies on our own, our thirst was never satisfied. Bulking up on an ever-changing rotation of extracurricular ventures, we arrived into university well beyond our teenage years.
It is obvious that college did not slow us. Instead, we used internet and technology to expand the reach of our knowledgeable prowess and to meet the growing demands that we self-imposed upon ourselves. What happened when we left higher education with our debt heavier than our four years of books? Did we slow down? Did we get steady entry-level jobs in order to pay off the cost of our education?
No, we confidentially went out into the world as adventurers on a mission to continue our education through our own measures. We stopped following the path suggested to us in the whispers of traditional society, throwing out that outdated unilateral board game of our forefathers. We welcomed freedom to explore as we would welcome a long lost friend.
The truth is, our generation became explorers in our own right. We took every opportunity that our parents worked hard to provide and then put in our own sweat, tears, hopes, fears, and blood into pushing those opportunities’ boundaries farther.
So we sweep the globe, live under the constant drip of wanderlust into our veins. We save every nickel and dime to take that flight, climb that mountain, or attend that festival. We break out of our everyday comforts in order to experience something new and to simply prove that we can.
Our generation has no hope for slowing down. We’ve learned that settling down doesn’t necessarily mean settling. That settling has its own set of adventures and paths for exploration and growth. We take the active life even when we start our careers, marriages, and families. We never quite settle in the same way that our parents did.
But in doing things in this way, we have completely overlooked the last great frontier. There’s a place that roams the map, but we’ve never quite learned to behold. We became travelers and see-ers and do-ers, but no matter the lessons we’ve learned, we just can’t get close to this uncharted territory.
Which is a real shame, because this frontier is completely new. Devoid of cartography to represent it adequately, this great expanse is the epicenter of what makes us the generation we’ve become. We have turned artists, comedians, and networkers. We connect the globe over again each morning and night. We forge relationships in all their capacities with individuals in all corners and walks of life. Yet, we simply have quit looking for the last great frontier.
In many respects, we shy away from remembering it. To seek it would cause us to recognize that there are some goals that are simply unattainable. Our forefathers at least sought to pinpoint this frontier. Instead, we have left it collecting dust with the bygones of past generations.
This last frontier is fading, and not because of globalization or the lack of values. It is decreasing in value because we are speeding along but not learning to balance. One day, if we keep on the Route 66 that we are continuing on, the last ship to sail to this final frontier will have departed. We will have missed our chance to explore this most precious territory.
For this final frontier is not stationary; it moves when we move and it grows as we do too. The coordinates of this final frontier are in the exact lines of latitudes and longitudes that you find yourself sitting at this moment. If you want a territory unexplored but rich, look no further than your own heart. What do the roots of your trees stand for? How have the hills of your heart concealed the peaks and valleys of your journey? Where is the river of passion that flows through you? Is that passion surging or has it trickled off into the creeks of a forest of uncertainty?
We can travel the world, make our parents proud of our accomplishments, and make great waves of change. But we must also make frequent visits to our last great frontier. The one that starts and ends with us. The one that charts our outward paths as we navigate our inward ones. The last great frontier needs adventuring; it lusts for wandering and luckily we are struck with unlimited wanderlust.
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