What comes to mind is the white bean and polenta mush soaking in his mouth as he tilted his head back and laughed in between bites.

“What you’ll be doing now is the greatest act of service you can do for the world. It’s greater than building 100 hospitals or giving to the poor.”

That was the puzzling remark of assurance I received from a modest temple keeper before I left for my gap year. We were having dinner on the back terrace of a Zen Center in New Mexico, facing the sunburned Sangre de Cristo Mountains, when he asked me what I was going to do after college. I told him of my plan to live a year in monasteries of different religions and cultures. Back then, I had a fascination with monks and nuns—still do. Growing up in a nonreligious family, I also had some questions of a deeper nature.

“Are you doing this alone?” He asked. I nodded. “Scared?” “A little,” I said. “Doubtful?”

While he was looking at me, his blue eyes cracked like moonstone. He pulled out a pint of contraband ice cream which needed softening. Yes, I had many doubts. Seeing my friends were diving into their careers, I felt insecure about pursuing this undefined and unrecognized path of self exploration. I felt selfish about taking a year to learn about myself. I felt scared as I didn’t know whether it was going to make a difference in the end.

That’s when he dropped me the opening remark. He didn’t elaborate further, but ate a few spoonfuls of ice cream, and left with his hearty laugh. I can still see his gray hoodie receding into the background, which looked like a Rothko painting of burnt orange, charcoal, and iris. I took his words with a grain of salt, perplexed more than reassured.

Several months before, an unsettling feeling started creeping into my life as I approached graduation. Even though I had done well in university, I felt something fundamental was missing. It took a few months of denial until I was able to face this hard reality: I was lost and confused. I didn’t know what I wanted to do in life, what I was passionate about, or what purpose I was to live for. More importantly, I didn’t know who I was.

As tempting as it was to start a job or enter graduate school, I felt like those questions were worth addressing. Something deep inside was telling me to step back from the world I grew up in—from its habits, assumptions, and expectations—and just take a side path to pursue my own questions. On the contrary, the devil’s advocate in my mind (who manifests as an old asian man wearing a white tanktop and socks with sandals) said it would be a huge waste of time, and I would end up living in the shanties. (His wife usually lets me get away with things).

So, after riding the roller coaster of doubt, I found myself going for it. My first stop was Japan, where I wanted to learn about Zen, a deeply growing interest of mine. When I landed, no catastrophe was waiting for me as I had thought, only a quirky Japanese hostel owner named Yama who talked to me about American obesity rates. The hardest part was over, although there would be plenty of challenges along the way.

I started my gap year on training wheels, carrying a bag full of guidebooks and an itinerary with all the correspondences attached. Now, I laugh when I think about it. But, as my gap year played out, things came my way I didn’t expect. Doors opened through the slightest remark, and I fell into pot holes that led me to the most eye-opening parts of my year. What happened, then, broadened in ways beyond my original conception.

So here’s an outline of what ended up happening. I lived in a small Zen monastery built in 1508 with seven old monks in Japan. Besides living the daily monk life, I took part in a week-long tradition called sesshin, where we all meditated from 3:50 am to 9:30 at night. I lived with a Tibetan community in Nepal, where old women with long tapered braids start processing towards the central stupa after the 4 am bell. I climbed the remote wintry Himalayas and lived in a stone and wooden shack, 16.500 ft up. I got a water parasite for three months. I embarked on a 5500 mile motorbike journey from Laos to Myanmar. I learned about my heritage in the hidden, disheveled backstreets of Beijing. I joined an afternoon coffee club of monks and nuns in the S. Korean mountains, where expressos were served in tiny tea cups.

Underlying this story was the story of many firsts. Perhaps this is where the meaning lies. It was the first time I was able to create my own path. It was the first time I was able to step back from the world I had lived in and see the assumptions governing its way of life. I discovered these assumptions are not the self-evident truths I once thought they were.

It was the first time I let go of plans and went with whatever life brought me. It was the first time when the simple things—a smile, a hot shower, an evening playing hand games with Nepali children on their dirt floor—made all the difference. It was the first time I was pushed beyond my comfort zone. The magic really happens once you step outside.

It was the first time I traveled overland and saw how border divisions have no inherent meaning. It was the first time I felt a deep family connection with people I had just met. It was the first time I faced the bad, the incredible extremes of poverty and misfortune. But it was also the first time I was able to see the inherent goodness of the world that still lies behind it. The unbelievable kindness of strangers. People with the least who gave the most. Connections beyond the spoken word. Cloud formations. Life. Simplicity. Silence.

Most people think a “spiritual sojourn” like this is all up in the air, flighty, like you’ll return with your head “in the clouds.” But I feel like I’m returning more grounded than ever. I feel like I’m coming back with a better sense of who I am and what my values are, forming the foundation of my fleeting life. I feel like I learned a little more of what it means to be human.

Through it all, I came back really believing in the value of a “gap” year. It’s something I now encourage students to think about as an option post-graduation. What I learned is that this type of year really isn’t “filler” for the gap. It’s not a “been there, done that” type of thing, but it can be an amazing period of formation that will always carry with you, no matter what you choose to do. During my graduation ceremony, a friend’s father wished me well for my “one year vacation” haha. But when done with genuine intentions, a gap year isn’t vacation. It’s education. I honestly feel like I’ve learned more this year than in my past 18 years of schooling.

While I deeply appreciate the education I’ve received, I have come to see its limits. I learned a lot from my textbooks, but there are other ways of learning out there. Once you move beyond the classroom or cubicle, you’ll find you’re now free to grow in multiple dimensions beyond the intellectual one. You’re free to cultivate other aspects of your being—the emotional, spiritual, physical, creative, and hands-on ones—for instance, and take time to explore whatever has been pulling your curiosities. For once, you have the liberty to delve within and let life happen. There’s no better time to do it than when you’re freshly out, free of job and family responsibilities.

You might think a year like this might set you back, but with a sincere and open mind, it will empower you to take on your future endeavors. You might think a year like this will break the bank, but it can cost less than paying rent for your current place. Trust me, it’s something worth saving up for. Besides, a year is only a tiny sliver of the average life span, so even if nothing happens, it’s a speck in the grand scheme of things. Why not take this golden opportunity?

So, as transformative as my gap year was, I’m still not sure if what I did is better than building 100 hospitals or giving to the poor. I still don’t know exactly what I want to do with my life, and that’s ok. It’s an illusion thinking you have to have everything figured out at twenty-two. But, I am coming back with a much better sense of how I want to live. Which is more important?