The first morning on the remote Espiritu Santo Island, I woke up to the susurration of the tide against the shoreline accompanied by radiating beams of sunlight creeping through the seams of my tent. The intensity of the sun filled my tent with a warm glow that enticed me to open my eyes and explore all that was illuminated under the fresh gleam of daylight.

I was on this remote island for a class trip for my ecology class, thanks to the coordinators at

Ecology Project International (EPI) and the teachers at my school who implemented the trip into the curriculum. I was nervous to be away from civilization, yet I was excited to discover and explore with the company of my 12 classmates, two teachers and the two EPI leaders. I was ready for adventure. I eagerly unzipped my tent, revealing the immense beauty of sloping arroyos descending into piercing blue water.The morning sunlight renewed the picturesque qualities of the island, each stream of sunshine exposing a different secret hidden within the beauty of each moment. The sun draped itself over the island like a cloak, covering it with a blanket of possibility.

My eyes converged on this single moment: the juxtaposition of the vivacious water and the desolate desert framed by the door of my tent. I failed to dwell on the past or worry about the future; I simply succumbed to the power of that fleeting moment.

The overwhelming feeling of opportunity summoned me out of the shade of my tent and into the radiance of possibility and adventure. I stepped into the light, letting the warmth of the moment wash over me as I strived to merely seize the moment, as advised by poet Gwendolyn Brooks:

“Exhaust the little moment.
Soon it dies.
And be it gash or gold it will not come
Again in this identical disguise”

Here are 11 reasons why the moments that comprised my stay on a remote island were some of my most adventurous yet:

1. You learn to live with nature.

There's not much else to do beside bask in the outdoors –– mingle with the wildlife (on Espiritu Santo you'll find babisuri, coyotes and a variety of sea life), and take in the amazing views.

2. You learn about yourself.

3. You have time for all the things you don't in a populated place.

Writing, drawing, thinking –– the list goes on. Sometimes, you need to lose the distraction of society to revel in the cathartic practices that help you discover yourself and discover the world around you.

4. You can actually see the stars.

Since civilization hasn't taken over Isla Espiritu Santo, the only lights on the campsite were our flashlights. We implemented a strict rule to minimize even light pollution from smallest of sources, giving us an optimal view of all the constellations. There's nothing quite like the shock of a midnight sky speckled with more sparkling stars than you've ever seen in your entire life. It looks like a mine full of millions of diamonds, and you feel both belittled and empowered at the same time.

5. You get an up close view of animals in their natural habitat.

While on my stay at Espiritu Santo, I had the chance to swim with wild sea lions.

6. You create a bond with the people you temporarily share the island with.

7. You learn new things.

When you're feeling stuck, rather than content and in awe, you combat boredom by talking with the people who are on the journey with you, and everybody ends up teaching each other things. For example, I ended up learning how to play a few chords on the Charango, a 10-string Andean instrument.

8. You realize that there is truly always something to do.

When you're on an island sans internet, phone connection and pretty much every other construct of society, you learn how to enjoy simplicity. You do yoga at sunrise, you write by candle light after dinner, you talk and laugh under the cloak of darkness.

9. You gain an appreciation for humanity.

When you go through this life-changing adventure with a mismatched array of companions, you learn that everyone has flaws, and everyone has pieces of themselves to offer. This interesting juxtaposition of perfection and fallibility strikes you with a mixture of modesty and pride, not just for yourself, but for humanity as a whole.

10. You gain a multitude of new perspectives.

Using a makeshift outhouse for a week smacks you with the realest sense of privilege –– you feel privileged to go to the bathroom in a bucket (and rather than flushing, you just cover it up with sand) because it means you were privileged enough to have this opportunity. And also because you realize how privileged you are to have running water and royal throne to use as a toilet back home.

11. The minute you hop off the boat and touch base with reality once again, you want to return to the remote place you now have a deep connection with.