The Size of the Adventure Doesn’t Matter

Adventure isn’t measured in miles, oceans crossed, or Instagram-worthy sunsets. It’s about stepping beyond the known — and noticing the world in a way that makes you feel alive.

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” — Marcel Proust

People love to make adventure sound like an exclusive club — the sort of thing you need six months, a compass, and a death wish to qualify for. But honestly, adventure is adventure. Full stop.

It isn’t measured in miles, hardship, or the number of Instagram reels you can pull from it. Whether you’re crossing oceans, trekking through a jungle, or just changing a tyre on the side of the motorway in a thunderstorm, the same part of your brain lights up — the one that whispers, this could go either way, and that’s exciting.

This year, I spent three months sailing through the Whitsundays. It was everything you’d imagine: the hum of wind in the rigging, the lazy roll of the boat under a moonlit sky, humpback whales breaching beside us as if to remind us how small — and lucky — we were. Every sunset felt like it had been painted for us alone. I thought: This is it. I’m living the dream.

But here’s the thing — a few weeks ago I stood in my back garden and watched a flock of black cockatoos roost in the gum tree. They filled the air with that strange, creaky-door sound they make, and for a moment, I was as moved as I’d ever been on the open sea.

That’s when it hit me: adventure, in its purest form, isn’t about where you go, how long you’re gone, or how hard it is. It’s about what it does to you.

It’s about spirit — the quickening of the pulse when you step beyond the known. It’s about friendship — the bonds forged through shared uncertainty and laughter that would never exist if you’d stayed in your comfort zone. It’s about wonder — the kind that cracks open an ordinary day and lets in something vast and luminous. It’s about leaving behind the predictable and finding joy in nature.

Smaller adventures — those tiny, shining nuggets of life — often burn brightest (without having to ration your battery power or guess the weather forecast by the shape of the clouds). They pierce the fabric of routine and remind us that we don’t need to cross an ocean to feel alive. We just need to pay attention.

So go. Step outside. Sail, walk, wander, notice. Let the world astonish you.

Because that’s all adventure really is — noticing. Paying attention to the world in a way that makes you feel alive, grateful, astonished… wherever you are.