Dear Leslie,
Almost all of the money I save goes toward travel — meeting friends abroad, visiting relatives, or checking national and international parks off my bucket list. I try to be as sustainable in my personal life as possible, but I love traveling, despite knowing that travel is where some of our greatest carbon emissions come from. Every time I fly now, I feel this guilt and fear, and it’s sometimes hard to balance it with my excitement. How would you recommend proceeding when some of the decisions we make in our personal lives are at odds with our beliefs and goals?
— Wondering Wanderer
Dear Wondering Wanderer,
The tension you’re describing — the pull between loving this world and worrying about harming it — is a sign of a very intact compassion compass. Sometimes, that compassionate awareness stretches us beyond what’s comfortable or easy to resolve.
Don’t dismiss your discomfort, because it’s inviting you to stay awake to your impacts on the planet — but don’t let it shut down your capacity for joy. If guilt grows so heavy that it diminishes your ability to connect and feel alive, it’s lost any usefulness it once offered. The work now is to metabolize your guilt and fear into something that guides you rather than pulls you apart.
You might ask yourself this question: Given what I know, what kind of traveler do I want to be?
That opens up more nuanced choices than simply “Go or don’t go?” Maybe you’ll travel less often but stay longer, explore more locally using lower-carbon methods of transport, or prioritize trips that deepen relationships.
You might also focus on destinations where you can make a positive impact as a tourist. In countries like Costa Rica, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Bhutan, responsible tourism helps keep conservation efforts alive by funding wildlife protection, supporting local communities, and sustaining fragile ecosystems.
There’s a larger truth in this as well. You’re just one person — and your choices matter, but they were never meant to bear the full weight of a systemic crisis. You didn’t build the fossil fuel-dependent systems that make flying one of the only practical ways to stay connected across long distances or encounter the wider world. Guilt can keep us preoccupied with ourselves rather than on the larger structures driving the harm.
Continue to balance your personal choices with collective ones. To start, you might want to discuss your dilemma with friends and family — whether they’re your travel companions, or people in your life who may have already made different calculations about travel. (In last month’s column, I shared similar advice with a question asker who could well be on the other side of that conversation.) Having a shared understanding with loved ones might help you process your inner tension, while also letting your care for the planet ripple out in community.
Take some time to reflect, and then settle into commitments that feel right for you. Return to your decision from time to time and make changes as needed. When you feel a pang of guilt, let it keep you honest but not overwhelmed.
Remember: The places you visit, the people you love across long distances, and the wonder you feel in national parks aren’t separate from your love for the Earth. They’re expressions of it. Add in a dose of reflection, gratitude, and perhaps even awe, and your journeys will strengthen the passion and resilience that allow you to stay engaged in your work. In this way, the same travel that stirs your guilt can also help protect what you love. It’s not a clean or simple solution, but it’s real.
The aim is to stay present for the whole of it — to allow your love for our planet to be large enough to hold grief, responsibility, and joy at the same time. Let yourself embrace and enjoy the world wholeheartedly, even as you engage in protecting it.
Holding this with you,
Leslie
