People travel a lot more than they used to. It is easier to fly, easier to do the research ahead of time, and the tourism industry has blossomed in countless countries around the globe. Travel has also become cool, with Instagram photos and best-of lists conferring a type of status among younger generations (myself included).

And not all of this is bad.

I believe travel has created a stronger connection to the global “we” and helped develop greater empathy for the struggles of others. Travel promotes an openness to the way others move through our world. And it opens eyes to understand that differences can be celebrated, not just feared.

But it can also act as a form of escape from daily life.

And this is an idea that I’ve been thinking about of late, brought to light by two concepts in Buddhism I recently read about. The first is called dukkha, which is “suffering”. The second, a related concept, is called pariññā, or comprehension. It is the idea of “total knowing,” as in familiarity and intimacy.

As I understand them, the concepts are connected. Suffering is required in order to comprehend fully. I cannot truly know myself without being willing to experience some degree of suffering. This is captured in the common idea that we learn the most about ourselves through adversity, when times get tough and we have to work through challenges.

I believe the same applies to where we live. To truly comprehend a place, might we also have to suffer with it to some degree? Do we, in our desire to “see the world”, neglect the practice of knowing our own home, spending time with the good and the bad of it, and becoming intimate with its features? Might we stand to gain a level of comprehension from exploring the mundane, familiar, and less attractive parts of our daily lives? (And believe me, as I write I am speaking to myself more than anyone else.)

Stephen Batchelor, in his book After Buddhism, writes the following regarding the intentions of Gotama as he teaches these concepts:

“He wants people to start paying attention to features of their experience that they habitually overlook or ignore. His reason is entirely pragmatic: by not paying heed to the tragic dimension of life, we become enamored, seduced, and captivated by what is merely agreeable, which leads to cycles of reactive and addictive behavior that keep us trapped, frustrated, and afflicted.”

He goes on to say:

“Comprehension, by contrast, encompasses the totality of what is happening: it is to embrace a life permeated equally by pain and pleasure, suffering and joy.”

I don’t know much about Buddhism and so I write about these concepts very hesitantly, but the ideas here jive with my own experience.

I have come to wonder during our year of travel if part of my own desire to travel is actually a manifestation of my desire for the agreeable. In other words, home life can be boring and travel can provide a dose of pleasurable distraction, just as a smartphone alert does during the course of a normal day. Travel allows me to escape the suffering of my city, my community, and my home. It allows me to ignore the “tragic dimension of life”. And along the path toward agreeableness, I miss out on some of the joy that comes along with the suffering.

As I begin a transition back home after two years away, I wonder if an orientation toward comprehending it, living with it, and indeed suffering with it’s tragic dimensions, might not bring a sense of peace and joy that I otherwise would not find.

Maybe I’ll give it a try.