I did something last month that I have never done before (which is a statement I make much less often as I get older): I facilitated a one-day family retreat on travel and cross-cultural experiences.

This family, now a large multi-generational group, gets together for a week each year at locations around the world, though usually somewhere in the U.S. For one day during these gatherings focus their attention on a single topic, with the hope of understanding each other and their lives better. One year, for example, they learned about the Enneagram, a personality typing system that identifies nine interconnected types.

This year, because one of the family members had read my new book on travel and living abroad (each member of their family has also lived outside the U.S.), they invited me to lead a conversation about how travel and international experience change us.

I have led lots of retreats over the years, from church leader boards to a gathering one time of European youth pastors in Basel, Switzerland, but I had never worked with a single, multi-generational family. And I must say, this family knows a thing or two about travel and living abroad. They’ve done far more of it than I have. But what they had never done was to take time to reflect deeply on their experiences. What had they learned? What were the difficulties (and continuing struggles) that resulted from so much moving around? These were big issues, as it turned out, and we needed the better part of a day just to scratch the surface.

Looking back, I am proud that I found a way to include the grandchildren (for the first time in the family’s experience of doing these things) — at least during the first part of the day. Along with their parents and grandparents, the grandchildren created a “life map,” often outdoing their elders in creativity (and color). After the children left for play time (under the watchful supervision of two teenage girls), the adults spent the rest of the morning (and a good part of the afternoon) explaining their maps and what they meant.

After returning home, I did some research — okay, I asked AI about it — and learned that such family gatherings are growing in popularity. Family and multi-generational travel is a significant and growing segment of the tourism industry. Vacations, wellness retreats, adventure retreats (hiking, skiing, and water sports), culture-immersion trips, and purpose-driven gatherings (such as the one I attended) are all becoming increasingly popular.

When I was growing up, my family took three-week road trips each summer across North America, and today I realize that by doing so my parents had given me the gift of curiosity. I didn’t realize it at the time of course — and therefore never said thank you — but they created in me an almost insatiable desire to set out on my own and explore and learn and (occasionally) grow.

The thing is, when my own children were young we didn’t do anything like that. Every summer we went to a Lake Michigan beach and, well, didn’t do much of anything once we got there. We sat in the sun, read books, occasionally went for a swim, and in the evening watched a movie and went to bed. Not exactly the life-changing experience I had when I was growing up.

Today, our daughters and their families come for a week each summer to the same beach association where we vacationed all those years ago, and we do basically those same things — plus a trip to Nellis’ Dutch Village and the Peanut Store in downtown Holland. This summer the dads are chartering a one-day fishing expedition from Grand Haven for themselves, the grandchildren, and me. But that’s pretty much all we’re going to do.

Will we create memories? Of course. Will we experience a deeper connection? I hope so. Will we end the week feeling rested and refreshed? No, I won’t, but maybe my children and grandchildren will.

I wonder, though, about this precious time together. I suspect that we could be doing something more. I don’t intend to fly in an obscure author from across the country to lead us in map-making exercises, but I know there is more we could be doing, more to see, more to understand, more to learn.

Going somewhere is one thing, but having a structured reflection time to think further about it is another. Why couldn’t we do that? Creating a legacy of learning, exploring, and encountering new cultures and places would be a wonderful gift to pass along to the next generation, as it was passed along to me.

Will we do something like that? Probably not. But I haven’t given up finding a way to make it happen. If you see us at the Peanut Store, please introduce yourself. We’ll count it as a cross-cultural experience.