YOLO Legacy: The Only Currency That Outlives Us

Dear kindred spirit,

We spend lifetimes building safety nets, budgets balanced, savings secured, ‘someday-when-the-time-is-right’ lists curate like artifacts. But travel as legacy rewrites the script. The most enduring marks we leave aren’t etched in paper or stone. They spark a child’s gasp at their first breaching whale, in a photograph that still steals breath decades later, in stories we retell long after passport stamps fade.

What if we measured wealth not in what we amassed, but in what we dared to feel?

Take my niece, Genesis, for example. She’s the kind of person who lives life with both hands wide open, ready to catch every experience that comes her way. She’s a financial whiz by trade but a wanderer at heart. Stamps and stories quilt her passport.

Recently, she returned from a trip that took her from the sun-drenched streets of Spain to the ancient sands of Egypt and the glittering skyline of Dubai. She didn’t just visit these places; she lived them. In Spain, she danced flamenco in a tucked-away taverna, the guitar strings’ rhythm echoing in her chest. In Egypt, she sat cross-legged in the shadow of the pyramids, sharing a bowl of koshari with a local guide who told her stories of pharaohs and looters plundering their tombs for gold. And in Dubai, she sipped karak chai from a street vendor, spices warming her throat as the city’s golden sun dipped below the horizon. 

Recently she said to me:  Tia, life’s real treasures aren’t what we own or leave behind, they’re the moments we live together.  Remember when you took us rafting for the first time? And when you surprised Che with that wild quinceañera adventure, bungee jumping, zip lining, rappelling and all of it?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘That’s what made me catch the travel bug. Now, whenever I travel, I hear your voice in my head: ‘Don’t just watch the world, jump into it.’  And damn, Tía… you got it right.  This year she is going Mexico, Scotland and Ireland.

Seize the Tapestry of Life

Here’s the thing about YOLO (you only live once): it’s not just a hashtag or a mantra for the young and reckless. It’s a reminder, a wake-up call, that life is fleeting, and the clock is always ticking. Think about it: when was the last time you did something that made your heart race? Something that made you feel fully, unapologetically alive?

For me it was traveling with the Santoso twins to Panama during pandemic, my brain got totally rewired.

Aliveness in the Detours

In their late 50s and blind since many years ago, they experience the world through sound, touch, and smell, and suddenly, so did I. We ‘saw’ Casco Viejo by running our hands over cannon-scarred walls; like Atlas Obscura’s sensory travel guide suggests, the best way to know a place is to let it press against your skin, we tasted the jungle by licking raindrops off bromeliads (don’t ask), and danced with street performers to drums we felt more than heard.

The Case of the Missing Twin

For once, I wasn’t just a traveler; I was a student. Alive?  Hell yes, especially when I lost Dimas in the hotel elevator.  One moment we were debating Panama’s white, pink and red sangrias and the next… silence. I didn’t even notice he was gone until we reached the street outside the hotel.  “Wait… where’s your other half?” I gasped. Rafi just sighed: “He’s either making friends or burning down the hotel. The rule was simple: Dimas holds Rafi by the shoulder, Rafi holds me by the elbow.  I stabbed the elevator button, heart pounding like a stolen drum. Floor 5: Empty. Next, Floor 8: A maid eyed me like I’d murdered someone. Floor 12: Still nothing. Then Floor 14. The doors slid open to reveal Dimas, grinning like a man who’d just won the lottery, arm-in-arm with a baffled German woman. ‘She was taking me to reception!’ he announced, as if this were a perfectly normal detour. 

That’s the thing about feeling alive, it’s not just the adrenaline, it’s the electricity of being fully present: the laughs, the near-disasters, the meals that taste like revelations. And yes, the heart-stopping moment you realize you’ve lost a blind twin in a foreign country.  I aged five years. Worth it.

For Genesis, it was standing beneath the pyramids at dawn, the stones humming with centuries of stories, lifting her up into something bigger than herself.  For you, it might be something entirely different (share if you want). But the point is this: don’t wait for “someday.” Someday is a myth. Today is the only day you’re guaranteed, and not even today, but the here and the now.

Invest in Time, Reap Memories

I get it. Financial security is important. We all need a safety net, a plan for the future, it is nice to use some of the money to help others, to contribute with the planet, you know like in a video game where you use some gold coins to level up your own life, but ‘unlock bonuses’ when you share it? Extra lives for everyone! But here’s a question: wouldn’t your loved ones cherish unforgettable journeys with you more than any material inheritance?

Currency of Connection

One evening in Cuba, I leaned out my hotel window and saw a group of women gathered outside their homes, at least three generations together, perched on weathered chairs in the humid dark. The day’s heat had finally eased, and they sat fanning themselves, laughing between sips of cafecito. My boss at the time, Kurt Kutay, ever the instigator of joy (a spirit as bright as his light green hat), pulled out a tiny speaker and, without a word, filled the street with the sway of son Cubano and invited them to dance.

The effect was instant. Those women, in their nightgowns and slippers (cutest thing I’ve ever seen), leapt up like teenagers, pairing off with us in the middle of the road. No introductions, no hesitation, just the electric thrill of music bridging languages. I remember one of their husbands watching from the park (25 yards away) where he sat shirtless, grinning but refusing to join. His smile said everything: This is how life should be.  Years later, I can still taste the salt in the air, hear the squeals when someone missed a step, feel the cobblestones rough under our sandals.  I don’t think a single photo exists of that night, just the imprint it left on us. Those who danced there couldn’t forget it even if they tried.

The laughter, the stories, the shared sense of wonder, these are the moments that become legacy of the heart. Whether forged with family, friends, or strangers-turned-kindred under a Cuban moon, they’re what we carry long after the music fades.

Don’t Wait for Tomorrow, Live for Today

Let’s be real: the world has never been a perfect place. Wars, pandemics, Trump, Putin, crashed markets, Trump again, political tension, and chaos have always been part of the human story. But so have resilience, connection, and the unquenchable thirst for adventure, right?

History hasn’t been just a record of conflict; it’s a testament to our enduring spirit of exploration. From the Silk Road to the moon landing, we’ve always been driven by the desire to discover, to connect, to feel alive.

… that same restless pulse beats in you right now. But here’s the secret: epic journeys begin at your doorstep.

Before crossing oceans, cross the street. Bring those cookies to the Smiths. Invent a ‘mid-Spring’ potluck and recruit the neighbors for some fun games.

Micro-Moments, Macro Magic

The world’s wonders aren’t just out there, they’re in the way Mr. Johnson always mispronounces ‘quinoa and in the ‘cafecito’ you invite your BF over to share with you and catch up on each other’s life. 

Yes, the news screams chaos. But when has it ever advertised our quiet triumphs? Some Zen master (I think it was Osho?) nailed it: ‘Don’t carry the misery of others. It is not your duty.’ So light the grill. Pass the potato salad. Let’s rebel like Osho’s fire, warm but untamed. Laugh not to dismiss pain, but to starve the machines that trade on our sighs. Joy, unmonetized, becomes revolution.

The ‘right time’ isn’t when the world calms down, it’s when you decide your life won’t be a footnote to someone else’s crisis. Start small. Start now. The explorers of history? They just forgot to wait for permission.

So here’s my challenge to you: Go out and collect moments, not things. Let your life be a tapestry woven with the colors of travel and the textures of human connection. The truest treasures aren’t stamped in passports; they live in the quiet glances between companions, the inside jokes that span continents, and the quiet awe of a sunset witnessed side by side.

Happy travels, my friends. May your journeys be filled with serendipity, your hearts with joy, and your years with stories that outlast the miles.

Grettel Calderon