How to keep the sense of wonder you felt while traveling

livemint.com:

Last summer, a tour through a tomb changed my life. Then it changed back. My wife and I were traveling in Italy with my son’s chorus as they sang in churches around the country.

Early one morning, we went to visit the catacombs in Rome. I’ve heard about the tunnels all my life, and I expected something claustrophobic and, frankly, scary. Instead, it was sublime.

The darkness felt like a gift after being above ground on a brutally hot day. So did the immediate solemnity, after playing tourist: Among all the crypts and coffin niches, working through the baffling passages, you couldn’t be as chatty and casual as you were up in the daylight. It was humbling but electrifying.

Near the end, we came to a chapel tucked into the wall of a tunnel. Our guide gave a talk, then the chorus did a song. In that moment, as the voices filled the cave and rushed down the tunnels, I felt connected with everyone crammed into the room—and with my faith.

Everything seemed spiritually right for me in a way it hadn’t in a long time. I had gone down into the tunnels an abstracted Catholic, one who always believes with my head but not always my heart, and I came out vowing to be a better one. That moment—that feeling—would be the start of a journey to rediscover really passionate faith.

The resolve lasted about 10 days. Walking through the airport back in Newark, N.J., it felt like I had never left. The exasperation at the baggage carousel was real; the awe wasn’t.

It’s something that happens to so many of us. We stand at the edge of a vast canyon, we watch the sun rise over a mountain, we volunteer to help build homes, we visit the rainforest, we watch waves crash on the beach—and we are overcome by something profound. For a time, we escape who