All in Personal essay

Scents of the Past

Smell is one of the most powerful senses. One whiff of a familiar scent can invoke a form of time travel. When Debbie Wilson opened a present containing her mother’s favorite perfume, she didn't know that its scent would transport her back to her childhood. But it did. Suddenly, she was eight years old again wrapped in her mother's love and comfort. 

Mother Daughter Travel to New York City

by Jane Spencer

I have read memoirs by daughters who traveled with their mothers, and most say the same thing: "Don't do it.”

Mothers are unquestionably loved, but it seems they can be incontinent, cheap, bossy, slow movers, picky eaters, or all-of-the-above. In other words, not the best travel companions.

I am the mother in this story. In my sixties, I have some aches and pains but I am not incontinent. I am a budget-conscious, adventure traveler who has trekked in Asia, Europe and the Americas.

Trouble is, I am not a big city person.

The Silent Treatment

Mary Ann Treger is a talker. When she's not talking, she's texting or emailing or surfing social media sites. Being connected is her cocaine. Even alone at home, political pundits yak on the television in the background. So why would this motor-mouthed writer go cold turkey and sign up for a silent retreat in an isolated abbey where shutting-up is the numero uno requirement?  Read on...

We Are All Immigrants

As an American expat teaching English in high schools and universities in the Philippines, YourLifeIsATrip.com contributor BJ Stolbov's students often ask him, “What makes Americans American?” Learn why it's a question that he finds difficult to answer as America becomes increasingly socially and politically divisive and discover how his answer is still one that unites. 

A Kayak Pilgrimage

by Dan Dworkin

To travel solo for days in a kayak is to be not on or in but of the water. It loves you, rocks you like your mother did, speaks to you with many voices, supports your meandering, bathes you, feeds you, tells you when to travel and when to stay still on the island of the moment. On every trip there is a time of storm, of being wind-bound when the judicious kayaker stays put, writes, rests, wanders, constructs stone sculptures and listens for the still, small voice.