Mapping out dozens of deeply focused trips around the world has convinced me that preparation no more spoils the chance for spontaneity and serendipity than discipline ruins the opportunity for genuine self-expression in sports, acting, or the tea ceremony.

True myths, ancient and modern, stop time because they emerge from somewhere beyond time.

Inspiration comes and goes, creativity is the result of practice.

The practice of soulful travel is to discover the overlapping point between history and everyday life, the way to find the essence of every place, every day: in the markets, small chapels, out-of-the-way parks, craft shops. Curiosity about the extraordinary in the ordinary moves the heart of the traveler intent on seeing behind the veil of tourism.

There is an unknown room in the soul that is constantly turning the stuff of daydreams into myths for us, helping us to get at meaning we can't get to through the front door.

We travel as seekers after answers we cannot find at home, and soon find that a change of climate is easier than a change of heart.

Reading old travel books or novels set in faraway places, spinning globes, unfolding maps, playing world music, eating in ethnic restaurants, meeting friends in cafes . . . all these things are part of never-ending travel practice, not unlike doing scales on a piano, shooting free-throws, or meditating.