Music transports me like no other thing. I could be stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, or scrubbing the toilet, or floating on a raft in my pool, but the moment that, say, “If Not For You” by George Harrison comes on, I’m no longer here. No, instead, I’m zipping up my coat as I step out of the Bodleian Library. I’m unlocking my bike from the fence that surrounds the Radcliffe Camera and taking off down Catte Street. It’s early evening; the sun has broken through the cloud cover, and the yellow brick buildings of Oxford, England are all bathed in that golden hour glow. I’m sailing by it all on my bicycle: pubs, bookshops, clumps of students and tourists taking selfies in front of buildings I actually get to go inside.

Or let’s say it’s “Tubthumping” by Chumbawamba. Now, I’m in the backseat of Jonathan’s Toyota Camry, looking out the right side window as our car winds its way along I-70 W, through the narrow corridor of the snow-laden Rocky Mountains and into the sandstone desert expanses of Utah.

I think you see where I’m going with this. Music takes us places. We know this, right? A song from thirty or forty years ago comes on the radio, and our parents get a bit misty-eyed for some reason they won’t explain. But we know the reason: they’re thinking of how and when they heard that song for the very first time, when it was not an oldie or a classic but very, very new. Music is powerful. It creates memories, preserves memories, and then, years down the line, helps those memories to resurface.

And this isn’t just a fun little thing that we all kind of believe and post on our Instagram feeds just to inspire our followers. “Music moves you. Be moved.” No, there’s actually psychological evidence behind this.

For one thing, psychomusicology expert Dr. Petr Janata argues that autobiographical memories and related emotions have a distinct relationship with music. According to Janata, this relationship takes place mostly in the MPFC, or medial prefrontal cortex, that part of the brain which deals with memories and putting oneself into context. Janata suggests that “a piece of familiar music serves as a soundtrack for a mental movie that starts playing in our head. It calls back memories of a particular person or place, and you might all of a sudden see that person's face in your mind's eye." In other words, music aids us in telling ourselves the story of our life.

In addition to this, researchers Emelia Michels-Ratliff and Michael Ennis found in a recent study that songs with “autobiographical salience, familiarity, [and] meaningfulness” were very likely to evoke feelings of nostalgia in a listener. So it’s not just any music that has this effect. No, it’s the songs tied to a particular time and place and moment that stir up those emotional connections within us. Music will transport us, but the music has to matter to us first.

Why am I telling you this? That’s what you’re wondering. Well, I have a proposition for you. Actually, more of a request. And here it is:

When you travel, when you adventure, listen to music deliberately.

Why not just use the chemistry of your brain to your advantage? We know there is a link between autobiographical memories and music. We see it in our own life. New studies support this connection all of the time. I’m not saying that music enhances or improves memory, but it does seem to call forth the memories associated with those certain songs. Music will transport you, but you have to make that possible.

There’s no one way to do that, but I can share a few things that have worked for me in the past. For one thing, don’t just listen to just any old playlist. Curate a playlist for when you travel. Whether you’re cycling down the Avenue des Champs-Elysées in Paris or driving down the coast of California, you want to be listening to music you handpicked for that moment. That way, the association between your travels and your music is of your own construction.

I might also suggest picking one song, like an anthem of sorts, that will be the theme song of your trip. It might occur organically, or maybe you declare it at the start of your expedition. Either way, if you let that one song be “The Song of the Trip,” I can guarantee you a rush of good vibes and great memories any time you hear it in the future. Example: a few months ago, as I was exiting the National Gallery in London, I heard the song “Bills” by Lunchmoney Lewis pouring from a loudspeaker somewhere, and right then and there, my mind was flooded with images and memories of my spring road trip to San Francisco and Portland and Seattle. I was standing in Trafalgar Square, but I was also walking along the banks of the Willamette and kicking up cherry blossoms with each step. So yeah. Pick a song.

The only other thing I would suggest might sound self-explanatory, but it’s not: listen to music when you travel. I know that’s a no-brainer when you’re driving, but when you’re exploring a city, or backpacking through the backcountry, or sailing somewhere, put the earbuds in for a bit. Not the whole time, of course. But do it as a future favor to yourself. Trust me, when you’ve returned to your everyday life, you’ll be grateful. When that song comes on, and you’re transported back to some of the finest times of your life, you’ll thank yourself.

You get to tell the story of your life. Why not have a killer soundtrack to go with it?