It’s the third day of my first grand adventure of the year. I find myself in Morocco, which is not only a new country, but a new region for me – North Africa. As I drive through the country to the various sites, I’m reminded of Delhi, of Athens and of Indonesia. There are pangs of similarity and yet it is altogether different. Funnily enough, I have landed in another country where I am constantly mistaken for a local. I wonder why I choose these places, or have they chosen me?

I’m so excited to be practicing my French, and find my mouth easing more and more gracefully into the language of my birth. Just this morning, I was steamed, soaked and scrubbed with salt and oils. My joke to the attendant about being good enough to eat was met with confusion and a cursory smile, although I believed my French to be perfect. The humor did not seem to translate, but I nonetheless began the day in a perfectly prepared state.

Now, I sit alone in a crowded restaurant, relieved for this moment of solitude.  It feels like a movie – the dramatic decor, the evocative music, and the varied cast of characters creating enough entertainment for one solo diner. My ‘real life’ moves into counterpoint.

It is all so fascinating – the rituals, the aesthetics, the food and the people, even the tourists – and I cannot deny the voice that says, ‘This is why I travel.’ Not just for the luxurious experiences, but for the reminder that there is so much to savor all the time. Into sharp focus comes the realization that all of this is possible, not only thousands of miles away from home, but within the four walls of my house, and the familiar streets of my community.

This restaurant, fancier than any I would go to at home, places me squarely in view of the richness infusing all of my days, even the ones teeming with laundry, bills and New Jersey traffic.

I miss the loved ones I have left at home, and occasionally wish for their magical appearance next to me to share these indescribably beautiful moments. And then I recall the elasticity  – the coming together and then moving apart – that I so often crave and create in my life, and how that particular rhythm and series of sensations feeds my soul at a deep level.

This dance that takes me toward and away from from my home, my family and my community, also leads me into and out of myself. I view, as an observer, my sameness and differences. My life, and the ordinariness of so much of it, moves from murky grey to delicious red. It becomes impossible to question the magic and miracles all around me. And that, my friends, is the grandest adventure of all.

Will you walk through the door of your next grand adventure?