As much as I love the desert, I’ve come to a rather disappointing realization: the desert doesn’t seem to love me back.
Every time I visit the American Southwest, I inevitably experience some sort of health flare-up. This latest trip was no exception, and after dealing with multiple issues, I’ve reluctantly decided to take a break from visiting the region for the foreseeable future. It saddens me to admit this, especially because I find desert landscapes so extraordinarily beautiful. But sometimes, we have to listen to what our bodies are telling us, even when it’s not what we want to hear.
I’ve learned that my body thrives in humid environments. Dry, arid climates, on the other hand, seem to bring out the worst in it. Nasal congestion, a dry and scratchy throat, environmental allergens that trigger coughing and respiratory discomfort, and eyes so painfully dry that they leave me exhausted. The cumulative effect takes a toll on my energy, my mood, and ultimately, my ability to fully enjoy the experience.
And it’s not as though I haven’t tried to adapt. With each successive trip, I’ve made adjustments. I now travel with a portable humidifier, lubricating eye drops, and nasal gel, hoping to make the dry air a little more tolerable. Unfortunately, even with all these precautions, this latest trip proved particularly challenging.
There’s a certain sadness in accepting that a place you love may not be the best place for you. I’ve always been drawn to the vastness, solitude, and otherworldly beauty of the desert.
But travel should be restorative and enriching, not something I have to physically endure.
Perhaps this is another lesson in the art of meandering:
Knowing when to change course.
We often think of travel as pushing beyond our comfort zones, but there’s wisdom in recognizing our limits, too.
For now, I’ll admire the desert from afar and turn my attention toward destinations where both my curiosity and my body can thrive.
After all, the world is vast, and there are still so many places to wander.