“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” 

-Alan Watts

“Follow your own path and let people talk.” 

-Dante

This is how I have crafted my life. I will try to leave my biases and emotions out of it, and share simply the facts of what I’ve done. I have many friends who call me when they are ready to take the leap of faith, knowing that I am the friend that will say go. I must be clear that I am fortunate enough to have a family that will catch me if I fall (I’m trying not to do that, but I know that they would if I did), and friends scattered across the world who will and have caught me while I’ve caught my footing. But I have also learned how to trust the deep intuition that tells me when to jump, and fall, and get back together again. My experience has come at the cost of trial and error. I have lost friendships, jobs, houseplants, and pride through the process of learning how to be grateful and graceful and give back as much as I receive. It has not been easy, but I wouldn’t trade my life for anything. So, without further ado, this is how I did it.

I went to college for Environmental Studies. I believe in education, and also that there are many ways other than education. My family supported my through college, and I am beyond grateful for that opportunity. I worked hard and graduated a year early then I moved into a tent in my friends back yard. I worked full time, got trained as a barista, and then bought a one way ticket to Spain to hike the Camino de Santiago. I walked 500 miles, spent 2 months traveling through Europe to visit the people I met along the trail, and wandered. I would pull tarot cards for the places I wanted to visit, and go to the one that felt the most right. After my wandering, I landed in London. When I got there I was ready to be home. I flew across the ocean and hugged my friends big when I returned.

I was at a loss for what to do next. I had a ping of insight that urged me to pursue a second degree, but my heart wanted to be still and to rest. I found a job at a coffee shop and a gear shop and I worked for 6 months. I dated a boy who wanted to moved to Montana. We decided I wouldn’t like Montana and suddenly I was ready to move again. I bought a one way ticket to Australia, worked at a summer camp in Colorado to fund my trip, and in four months I was sailing through the sky to the land down under.

I landed in the home of my long-term penpal and was introduced to an immediate community. I was lucky for the warmth and the pillow of a landing for the jump abroad, but I would never deter someone from just going for it. We all learn what we need to when we do. I supported myself with work from coffee shop jobs, a home 8 blocks from the beach, and began to live a life I had dreamed of by the sea. I was fired from one of the jobs (my first time being fired) for texting at work. But as the say one door closes for another to open. The next doors that opened were selling cakes and coffee through the holidays and as luck has it, the Australian Holiday pay built up another economic cushion just strong enough to make me want to jump again. Before I knew it, I bought a 1990 Diahatsu Charade, packed up my belongings and was on the road again. This time, in a manual car I did not yet know how to drive, on the wrong side of the road.

I spent a month dancing along coastlines, snorkeling through caves, and eating oysters off the rocks with my dear friend Ella. We slept with stars, and the sea, and the wombats, and the strip of Australian coastline that still, to this day, sneaks into my dreams to remind me of magic. I landed in Tasmania, and through a fun set of coincidences, found 2 jobs and a home in a town called Sandy Bay. I learned Winter here. How my heart behaves in the seasons of darkness. My own darkness and the importance of surrounding myself with the things that bring me life.

When I landed back home, I felt as lost as I felt full. I had lived a whole life away from the people I was going to share my life with. As with most feelings and experiences, I didn’t realize how hard this transition period was for me to work through. I had landed back in the land that knew me more honestly and deeply than anywhere in the world, and yet I felt misunderstood. People often dismiss what they don’t understand, or dreams that they don’t believe to accomplish, or people who have lived a life different than their own. And there I was, craving connection, yet unable to connect…. (I’ll write more about this later on, and have written about it before).

I began a period of my life that I look back on as ‘gentle chaos.’ I wanted roots, but was unable to find my footing. I dated boys who taught me lessons, and I finally picked up and answered the call to run to the mountains. That is where you find me now. Boulder, Colorado. A small city nestled in the Front Range of the Rockies. When people ask me ‘why’ I moved, I don’t have much more of a reason than ‘because I had to’ to say. I have always had a hunch that I am a mountain woman, and I would keep believing that until I tried it. So here I am trying it.

It’s been six months, and now with a stable job, home, and community filling in around me I feel space for creating again. I think there is a part of me that craves the adventure of ‘figuring it out’ that travel imbues on the wandering spirit. I like a certain level of chaos, and I thrive in the unknown. But… its not sustainable. Im learning how to create that adventure in my every day, how to find joy in the work that I do, and how important it has been to keep searching for the place that feels like home. The path ahead is still uncertain, but I have learned how to stay open to letting life happen exactly the way it needs to.

Thank you for letting me share my story. If there is one thing I want to say, I urge you to use this life, your life, as the canvas for the story you want to share with the rest of us.