Do I Want the Experience, or Just the Picture?

The other day, on a flight from NYC to Accra, the person next to me was complaining about how long the flight was and how cramped the seating felt. I reminded them that there were people who would give almost anything for the chance to get on a plane and travel somewhere new.

And to be fair, they weren’t wrong. Being grateful doesn’t suddenly give you more legroom.

But the conversation got me thinking.

When someone says, “I want to travel the world,” what are they actually picturing? Probably a photo in front of the Eiffel Tower. Trying good food somewhere in Italy. Watching a sunset on a beautiful beach.

Probably not standing in an immigration queue. Or trying to sleep upright. Or arriving somewhere exhausted and realizing there’s still another two-hour journey to the hotel.

Yet all of that is traveling too, right? The uncomfortable flight isn’t separate from the experience we wanted. It’s part of how we get to have it. We just tend to leave that part out when we imagine the life.

And then the question turned back on me: What else am I doing this with? Where am I falling in love with the picture but not really considering what it takes to get there?

Building a business, for one. It’s easy to picture something successful. The freedom, the impact, the satisfaction of creating something that works. It’s less exciting to picture chasing a payment, having a difficult conversation, or putting months into something without knowing whether it will pay off.

But those are also days spent building a business. Not just the day you launch or land a big client.

I think about fitness too. I like the idea of being strong and healthy for a long time. But that requires making room for the same fairly ordinary things, over and over, long after the excitement of setting the goal has worn off.

Even being a good father. I picture the trips, the laughter, the relationship I hope to have with my children when they’re older. Am I giving enough thought to the patience that relationship asks of me today? Listening when I’m distracted. Following through. Explaining something again when I feel like I’ve already explained it ten times.

Honestly, I don’t think the answer is to love every difficult part. I can want to travel and still dislike a long flight. And some problems are worth fixing rather than just accepting.

But there’s a difference between disliking part of the process and treating it as though it shouldn’t be there.

That’s what I’m trying to catch in myself. When I say I want something, am I considering what an ordinary day of pursuing it actually looks like? And knowing that, do I still want it?

I still want the picture in front of the Eiffel Tower. I just want to remember, when I’m sitting on the plane, that this is also part of the thing I asked for.