I enjoy the preparatory elements of travel - packing my bags and

“I enjoy the preparatory elements of travel—packing my bags and choosing my outfits—but my favourite part is getting there.” Thus spoke Dominic Monaghan, and in his words we hear not merely a reflection upon journeys, but a timeless teaching about desire, anticipation, and the joy of arrival. For travel is not only the motion of the body from one place to another, but the stirring of the soul, the shaping of expectation, and the unveiling of fulfillment. In this simple saying lies a map for life itself.

When Monaghan speaks of the preparatory elements, he honors the ritual of readiness. To pack one’s bag is to shed the weight of what is unnecessary and to choose only what is essential for the road ahead. It is a symbolic act, for in preparing for any journey—whether of travel, of work, or of the heart—we must lay aside what does not serve us, and carry only that which strengthens us. Yet he does not linger forever in preparation. For the heart of the journey is not in the packing, nor in the planning, but in the getting there, in the moment when dream and reality meet.

The ancients knew this truth well. Consider the voyages of Odysseus, who prepared long for war and for his return, yet whose story endures not in the gathering of provisions but in his eventual arrival to Ithaca, to his throne, to his faithful wife. His preparations shaped his endurance, but his soul rejoiced most at the homecoming. Or think of the pilgrims of Santiago de Compostela, who plan carefully for the long road, yet find their deepest joy not in lacing their sandals, but in reaching the cathedral where their spirits are renewed. Preparation is sacred, but it is the destination that fulfills the promise.

And yet, Monaghan’s words are not dismissive of preparation—they are a reminder of balance. Too often, men and women become trapped in the rituals before the journey. They polish their plans, gather their garments, arrange their steps with endless care, but never depart. Their lives remain a perpetual packing of bags, a ceaseless rehearsing of beginnings, with no arrival to crown their effort. But the wise know that preparation must yield to action, and that joy is found not only in planning, but in stepping forth and arriving where one has longed to be.

In his confession, we also see humility. For it is tempting for travelers to delight only in the destination, forgetting the value of the journey itself. Monaghan honors both—the choosing, the packing, the little rituals of readiness—but his heart is most alive in the arrival, the moment when expectation becomes experience. This teaches us that the greatest treasures in life are not in dreaming forever, but in seeing those dreams become flesh.

So too in our own lives must we embrace this wisdom. When you prepare for a task, do so with joy: gather your tools, sharpen your mind, adorn your spirit. But do not lose yourself in endless readiness. Step forward. Begin the work. Cross the threshold. For the delight of life lies not only in the preparation, but in the arrival, when you finally stand in the place you sought, and breathe the air of accomplishment.

Practical action flows from this teaching: if you have long been preparing, do not tarry forever. Finish packing your bags—whether they be the lessons of your studies, the tools of your trade, or the courage in your heart—and then set out. Let your journey move beyond anticipation into fulfillment. Do not cling to rehearsal; seek the stage. For in the end, the soul rejoices most not in the gathering, but in the getting there.

Thus let Monaghan’s words remind us: prepare with care, but arrive with courage. For life is not meant to be only a collection of packed bags, but a series of arrivals, each one carrying you further along the great road of destiny. And when you stand at the place you once dreamed of, may you know that all your preparations were but the prelude to the joy of truly being there.