Here's to that next adventure.

Here's to the string of flights to get to where you need to be. The people you'll run into along the way. The swim holes you'll strip down for and the nights out you'll suit up for.

Here's to the bright lights of a foreign metro, or and the dim home lamps of a rural village. Here's to every flavor of every bite of every unfamiliar dish you'll come across.

Here's to the unlikely souvenir. The crumpled ticket stub in a pocket. The scuff mark from a subway platform. The bruise from the thing you did that hits the perfect balance between kinda dumb and still worth it.

Here's to the train cars, hillsides, Irish pubs, and rooftops that will host your next breakthrough epiphany. The subtle sacredness of an unexpected holy site.

Here's to going, looking to consume minimal materials, but to drink in new, diverse perspectives from the tap. To going in with a whole heart and open hands, humbly wondering what you have to offer back to the world.

Here's to experience, belonging, and purpose. And always going where the love is.

Philippe Lazaroideal1, ideal