In this blog post, I’ll share my thoughts on the choices we make “in this very moment,” based on my experiences with the people I met during a backpacking trip I took after completing my military service.
While I was in the military, I always longed to travel abroad. I had planned to visit as many places as possible once I was free to travel overseas after my discharge. However, after returning to school following my discharge at the end of February, I gradually became immersed in reality. With so many obligations—such as maintaining my GPA, improving my language scores, and participating in extracurricular activities—the things I wanted to do were pushed to the back burner. Yet, one day in June while studying for my final exams, it struck me that these obligations would never let me go until the day I die, and if that were the case, the things I “wanted to do” would never rise to the top of my priority list.
But the practical issue of “money” held me back. I had almost no experience with tutoring or part-time jobs, so I had no independent income and had to rely mostly on my parents for travel expenses. Since I had vowed to minimize my financial dependence on them after my discharge, it wasn’t easy to ask them for travel money. Fortunately, when I shared my specific itinerary and my thoughts honestly, my parents supported the trip, saying it was my first chance to truly experience freedom after my military service. So I booked a flight to Spain. Since it was my first backpacking trip, I hesitated to go alone, so I decided to travel with a close friend, but we agreed to focus on diverse experiences rather than just sightseeing.
On the first day, we boarded the flight to Moscow with excited hearts. Two middle-aged men were seated on either side of me. What turned what could have been a silent flight into a meaningful conversation was a single remark from the man sitting to my right. The conversation began when I showed him how to use his camera. We started with light topics, but as the flight went on, our conversation grew deeper. He was an ordinary family man, but he said that after getting divorced one day and sending his children abroad to study, he felt immense regret. He had many things he wanted to do when he was young, but since he had always prioritized his responsibilities, time had slipped away before he knew it. That’s why he was on his way to take the Trans-Siberian Railway—a trip he’d planned—before it was too late. His story was so similar to the thoughts that had led me to decide on this trip that it left a deep impression on me.
I met another person in Moscow. Her name was Yulia, and unlike the man I met on the plane, she had chosen her own path much earlier in life. She said she had worked at a good company but loved photography so much that she quit her job to work as a freelance photographer. Although her English wasn’t fluent, I listened intently to the stories she had to share. She told me that two years ago, she quit the design firm she was working at and began traveling through Europe, Asia, and the Americas to take photos; she also holds exhibitions of her work and earns extra income by selling photo books. The few photos she showed me were so excellent that even I, who know little about photography, found them impressive. And I was very envious when she said she was so happy with her life right now.
Third, there’s an older guy I met while sleeping rough in a small town called “Bunol.” He had just been discharged from the military and was touring Europe with a senior from his unit. While most people focus on preparing to return to school or building up their résumés after discharge, he said he was postponing his return to school because he wanted to prioritize doing everything he could while he was still as young as possible. He told me that after finishing this trip in Spain, he planned to head to Morocco in North Africa to travel around the continent. Although he was a bit worried because his friends of the same age were already working, his explanation that he chose this journey because he felt he wouldn’t be able to do it if he didn’t go now struck me as truly admirable.
Meeting people like this—who are living happily by choosing what they want to do in the early, middle, and late stages of their lives—made me realize something truly important on this trip.
While everyone’s circumstances are different, it’s not easy to break free from the confines of your current reality and live happily by walking a path that might even seem reckless. Such a choice could be dismissed as naive—as the kind of idealistic thinking that ignores reality. However, when you look back on your life, you might be left with deep regret if all you see is a life filled solely with “things you had to do” to conform to reality. Since we’re all going to die eventually, wouldn’t it be more meaningful to live this one and only life doing what we want to do?
If we expand on this idea a bit further, there’s no need to limit what we want to do to something as grand as “traveling around the world.” It can also apply to things that are relatively easy to compromise on within the constraints of reality. For example, you can add small goals—like working out hard to build a toned and slim body—to your list of things you want to do. Everyone wants to get in shape, but if you keep putting it off because you’re too busy with your “to-do” list, it will likely remain an unfulfilled dream. Instead of starting with something daunting like traveling around the world, begin with small steps in your daily life. Before you know it, you’ll find yourself accomplishing one goal after another and eventually reaching even bigger ones.
There are countless choices you can make right now. You could study for an exam immediately, or take a quick nap to soothe your tired body. Or, to avoid wasting your youth, you could spend time with friends or a partner, even if it means accepting some sacrifices. I hope you choose what you want to do most among these options. If you truly want to study, study; if you really want to sleep, sleep; and if you want to deepen your bond with friends or a partner, choose to spend enjoyable time with them. We still have plenty of opportunities ahead of us, so there’s no need to worry just yet about how that choice might change the rest of your life. What matters is choosing what makes you happy right now—what you’ve always wanted to do.
However, you must be prepared to accept that you won’t regret it. No matter how much you prioritize present happiness and choose what you want to do, it’s not right to make choices you’ll inevitably regret—such as using drugs or committing crimes. If the choices mentioned above are things you truly longed to do and you’re confident you won’t regret them, then it’s fine to go ahead; but if they’re choices made on a whim or in a fit of anger, they’re not for the sake of present happiness—they’re merely an excuse to escape reality.
This trip could have been just a single two-week trip. I was left with some regret that, because I spent such a considerable amount of time traveling, I couldn’t do other activities I could have done during that period. What if I had studied languages diligently during the more than two weeks of travel and the preparation time leading up to it, thereby improving my official language test scores? What if I had studied computer programming in preparation for next semester’s programming class? What if I had taken the time to meet up with old friends? Without language test scores, I faced obstacles when applying for various extracurricular activities, and I struggled to take the programming course because I had to learn it in a rush during the semester. I had to postpone meeting up with those I didn’t see during the break until after classes resumed.
Nevertheless, I don’t regret going on my first-ever backpacking trip this summer. While those other activities would certainly have been valuable experiences in their own right, I didn’t want to miss the chance to take an extended trip abroad during my college years, and I returned from that journey having gained something truly precious. I believed that learning life lessons was more valuable than simply acquiring knowledge; through the people I met while traveling, I was able to organize my thoughts more clearly and solidify one more of my personal convictions.
If I had chosen to focus on “must-dos” this summer—such as previewing or reviewing my major or preparing for a language exam—the thought that led me to set out on that trip in June would have remained nothing more than a fleeting idea. But this trip helped me clarify my thoughts more firmly about what I should choose right now, and it provided me with a compass that will help me make wise decisions at the many crossroads ahead.
Moving forward, I will continue to determine the direction of my actions by judging what I should choose in this very moment, guided by this mindset. And when the time comes to look back on my life, I hope I can tell myself that I lived a life free of regrets. I hope that all of you reading this will also make the choice you most want to make right now—one that you won’t regret in the future—and live happily.
