Smaller house, bigger life

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there! What a wonderful weekend it’s been. My family has spoiled me…and I indulged myself today writing for pleasure. So – here you are. Thanks for reading!

Mother’s Day with my daughter and my mom, 2013

Today also marks one month since we moved into our new (to us) home. This post won’t be about a new destination, but rather a snippet of our journey to live an intentional life.

If you’ve been reading this blog since the beginning, you know that our Semester at Sea adventure was transformative on multiple levels. Not only did it open our minds and enlarge our perspective, it was the catalyst for me to resign from an 18 year career in education and “start over.” My web writing business, Write Nice, launched in the fall of 2011. It hasn’t been easy, but I have no regrets. Today, business is brisk.

Along the way, we’ve scrutinized how we spend our money, reflected on how we want to live our lives, and made some difficult decisions. Taking the Financial Peace class last year enlightened us to the fact that a disproportionate amount of our income was sucked up by our mortgage.

Many discussions between Jason and I ensued. What should we do? What were our priorities, and what were our options?

About 6 months later, we concluded the logical thing to do was sell our house and downsize to something smaller and more manageable. It took another 6 months before we listed our house for sale.

The kids were not thrilled….they adored our giant, newer house and kid-centric backyard (basketball, anyone?) We explained how our family was our “home” – no matter where we lived, we’d always be together.

But Vivian, a 6th grader now, had no qualms reminding us “Why do we always move?….You promised we’d be in this house until William went to college!….I don’t want to leave!”

William drew into himself, wandering the backyard in quietude everyday after school. If you’re a parent, you know how guilt can jab at you. This was one of those “guilty as charged” times.

Every time we prepared for a showing, I cursed under my breath, sweating as I rushed to scour each room, wondering what in the world were we thinking to create such upheaval and uproot the kids.

Six weeks after the for sale sign stuck in the ground, we got an offer. Surprise! Then, gulp – the buyers wanted to close in 30 days.

This commenced the mad house hunt for a suitable downsize. For a month we lived in limbo, looking at houses, making offers and counter-offers, hoping and praying something would fall into place so we wouldn’t have to move into a rental and wait for the right home to come on the market.

Headaches, perpetual crankiness, and insomnia plagued me from the stress. Ugh. And then the mammoth job of purging (garage sale and countless trips to Goodwill), packing, and moving.

We’re so grateful for the terrific help we received for the move!

Somehow we muddled through. Thankfully, family and friends helped at the exact times when we needed them.

God is good. It all worked out, better than I could have ever imagined. Let’s compare the specs:

Then:
3016 square feet, 5 bedrooms, 3.5 baths, built in 2004

Now:
1734 square feet, 3 bedrooms, 1.5 baths, built in 1959 (with a funky 1970’s addition)

That first week, we braced ourselves for a tough transition, based on how physically and emotionally draining moving week had been. I ended up sick in bed (after battling the bug as long as I could) our second day in the new house. By mid-week, I had recovered and life continued, amidst boxes and busy routines.

You know what? We transitioned smoothly. It felt right. When we’d moved into our old house I distinctly remember thinking, “This house is so big! This house is so nice!”

But never that it felt right.

William loves the climbing trees in our new yard.

Call me Goldilocks….this little place is just right. And the freedom that accompanies this smaller house opens up opportunities that would have stayed wistful dreams had we kept to the status quo.

Vivian and the irises in bloom in our new front yard.

Do I miss the old house? Sure, I miss my enormous walk-in closet. The automatic ice and water on the stainless steel refrigerator. But that’s about all – and as days pass, I miss those luxuries less and less.

We’ve gained other, intangible riches:

The liberation of cutting our mortgage in half. Simplifying and streamlining our “stuff.” Learning to share a cozier space. Building up college accounts and other savings. Planning new adventures in a financially-secure manner.

Is life perfect? Of course not. It’s just bigger and better (for us) living smaller.

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Arm-chair travel: Readers share

In some ways, my solo getaway to Seattle seems like it happened a year ago, rather than last month. But in others, the effects of the trip compounded exponentially. Rejuvenated from the inside out, my usual winter blues that curse me every February, seemed to deflect off my armor of renewal. The daily rhythms of work, school, family activities, chores, and meetings haven’t seemed quite as mundane. Multiple writing projects for my web writing business, Write Nice, have presented great opportunities in the past 30 days. Coincidence? Don’t think so.

For this month’s post, I’m thrilled to share inspirational stories from my treasured readers of their independent travel experiences. Thank you to Amy, Jen, Susanne, Maggie, and Katie for writing! Now, kick back, relax, and enjoy some arm-chair travel:

My job is to basically travel alone. Well, that’s not my title, but it is what I do. I take several business trips each month, and they are all alone (except in the summer when I have my daughter come with me if it’s a short trip or a trip to a good destination.) Depending on my mood I either love traveling alone or hate it. I guess if I stop and really think about it – it is probably mood, destination, how long I will be gone, etc…. So many factors contribute to my feelings toward a trip. I have never traveled alone just for pleasure. But I get plenty of experience in my life with work.

~Amy Emery

On a recent trip to New York City to visit an old friend, I found myself with an afternoon all to myself. I was riding on the train back from visiting my cousin on the very edge of Manhattan. I felt so empowered and capable that I had navigated the excursion to see her on my own. As I read my latest book on my iPhone, confident that I had the time and knew where my stop was, I felt like a savvy New Yorker. I’m thinking the only tip-off to my true identity (Pacific Northwest mom of 2) was my bright green Columbia jacket!

~Jennifer Nyburg

When I was in 5th grade, my family had signed me up to go to overnight camp. I was so upset about leaving home that I cried and cried until they finally relented. In my late teens and twenties, having left home on my own volition, I traveled across the country several times by car and eventually made it to Europe. I, too, have developed a travel bug and it has served me well.

There are many stories to tell but I shall share this one. I was about 40, living in San Francisco on my own, and floundering. Working, yes, but not feeling directed. I got a call from friends in Portland who asked if I’d like to live in Spain for free in exchange for helping restore a 14th century masia (stone farm house). It took no time at all for me to decide, and after making all arrangements (closing up my life in America for an uncertain time) I arrived in Barcelona, then whisked by car to a village of about 50 people and several hundred cows and sheep. I had arrived in Calabuig, Catalonia, about 15 kilometers from the Mediterranean. There was no kitchen, no bed, no phone, no radio….nada!

I found an old mattress in one of the rooms and dragged it up to the terrace which overlooked the landscape to the sea. I slept there for two weeks, bought an old bicycle, a cooler for ice and food, and began reinventing my days, learning one Spanish word at a time! This was the beginning of one of the most profound years of my life; a time when I grew to know myself in ways I had not imagined.

~Susanne Metcalf

Photo courtesy of Christina Gallegos

Solo travel – love it! I planned a recent independent trip to Nicaragua but Cooper (18 year old son) joined me at the last minute – which was a great treat! However, last summer my Conversion Van took me to Montana for a 10 day trip. Camping, picnicking, hiking, kayaking….all take on a different vibe when you’re traveling alone. I think part of it is that as parents when we travel we are viewing the world through our children’s eyes. We’re constantly searching for exciting new things to point out to them…sorting through information about our location to pick out the nuggets that may interest them…experiencing our travel through their experiences…and even scanning the ground and surroundings for danger. Solo travel allows us to see the world through our own eyes.

~Maggie Howse

I love traveling alone. I have many great memories of independent travel; many were formed while studying abroad in Nottingham during my regular weekend outings (mostly solo all over Britain), but these two stories come from my Semester at Sea summer.

We were in Greece and the voyage was nearing the final ports. We were docked in Piraeus, essentially on the edge of Athens. Athens has this great overground train system that I was dying to try, but all of my friends were out on various excursions that day. Naturally, this didn’t stop me. Piraeus was the first stop on the line and I got on and rode it all the way to the end. I got out, walked around, had lunch, and simply explored the new neighborhood before returning. It was a simple day, yet remains one of my favorites from that summer.

Photo courtesy of Evan Ripley

The other was in Denmark. We were docked in Korsor, a tiny, tiny town that was grateful to have some tourists. I rented a bike and rode everywhere. Up and down the streets, stopping and chatting with the locals, people watching on the beach. I found this great fish and chip restaurant that I am eager to return to (I know I will some day.)

I love traveling with family and friends, but there is definitely something nice about hitting the pavement solo every now and again.

~Katie Paysinger

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525,600 minutes later

Did you know there are 525,600 minutes in a year? Exactly one year ago today our Semester at Sea adventure commenced. Naturally, I’ve been feeling a little nostalgic these days. Promise and cross-my-heart you won’t find your email inbox flooded with other “one year ago today” posts – I realize you’ve already experienced the grand voyage vicariously through Experiential Passage! But I couldn’t let January 9th fritter away without recognizing our anniversary!

As was mentioned in my last post, I’ve entered my “armchair” travel season. Instead of actually going anywhere, I read about and dream about all the places I hope to go sometime in my lifetime. Imagine my glee when I discovered a giant photo of the rooftop pool of the Marina Bay Sands hotel in Singapore in last month’s issue of National Geographic. How thrilling to see a place half-way around the world That We’ve Been To.

Singapore's Marina Bay Sands rooftop pool, aka "SkyPark"

And then on a whim I bought a copy of NG Traveler at Third Street Books last week. There’s not one but two articles in this issue of Places We’ve Been.

The penguins at Boulders Beach, South Africa.

One is about the penguins at Boulders Beach in South Africa (we took a 1 1/2 hour train ride from Cape Town to spend the afternoon there)and the other is titled “Hong Kong With Kids.” It highlights Kowloon and Victoria Parks (check), the Lei Yue Mun night market (check), and Star Ferry (check).

Hong Kong with kids article

Dang- why didn’t I query some magazines before we departed??? Anyway, these publications are timely reminders. It’s been good to fully comprehend and appreciate all the opportunities we had on our round-the-world odyssey.

So what was January 9, 2011 like? I didn’t document much of that first week on this blog because the transition was a bit staggering. We actually left our home at 8:30 a.m. on January 8th. After an overnight at the airport Comfort Suites in Charlotte, North Carolina, we boarded the plane early on Sunday, January 9th. I remember relief rinsing over me at the realization that we didn’t have to plunk down another $200 to check our bags on the technically third leg of the flight. We practically skipped off the plane at Nassau airport in The Bahamas, buoyed by the tropical warmth.

A live calypso band was jamming away, offering some entertainment as we waited in the long line to get through customs.  Then we encountered the first wrinkle of the trip. One of our bags didn’t make it. After we made the decision to wait the 2 hours at the airport until it arrived, we settled in with some fast food and tried not to let antsy-ness derail our optimism.

The cab ride was particularly distinctive. The friendly driver chit-chatted for the entire 2o minute drive, proudly recommending things to do and see and marveling at the voyage we were about to embark on. I remember thinking all the buildings were shades of tropical fruit: lemon, tangerine, mango, melon and berry. The Atlantic Ocean looked positively azure. Little did I know how that eye-candy would quickly become a view I’d take for granted.

After we made it through the Semester at Sea check-in protocol at the ship, we’d barely stumbled into our cabins and caught our breath when it was time to head out to our first round of orientation. We’d cut it close (about 30 minutes to spare) waiting at the airport for the luggage. From 4:00 -9:00 p.m. it was a blur of meetings, introductions, and the first of many attempts trying to orient ourselves on the MV Explorer. Really, the entire 3 days of orientation were stinkin’ hard and overwhelming!  Both Jason and I  had thoughts of “What did we get ourselves into?” Except for watching the BCS championship game at the Hard Rock Cafe, 2 hours one evening walking around the famed Atlantis, and one hour at a public beach walking distance from the ship, we can’t really say we experienced The Bahamas. Alas, it’s still a Place We’ve Been.

Sunrise over Nassau, Bahamas from the deck of the MV Explorer.

I wanted to share this video with you (lasts about 10 minutes.) Choreographed and filmed by SAS students this past fall, it truly captures the spirit of the whole Semester at Sea experience. We’ve watched it several times for obvious reasons and each time it makes me cry and smile at the same time! The video starts on deck 3 and works it way up to deck 8. We even recognized Captain Jeremy and some of the crew. So – if you were ever curious about what the MV Explorer really looks like, you might enjoy this video. Plus, the song is really uplifting.

Everything is going to be different; life is never going to be the same after

your passport has been stamped.

~Graham Greene

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Not Home for the Holidays

As promised, this post will highlight some of my readers’ stories. Since I’ve never been away from family or home for Christmas, last month I invited you to share your “not home for the holidays” experience. Thank you to Mike, Anna, Molly, and Katie for contributing. I hope you all enjoy these stories as much as I do. Merry Christmas!

Christmas 1964

As a junior officer for the Marine Corps, my battalion landing team was in the Philippines on Christmas Eve. We were a first line of defense in the Vietnam “area” but were docked “having liberty” in Subic Bay. The plan for our off-duty holiday was to explore the small town of Olongapo and enjoy a live show by Bob Hope on Christmas Day. We were especially looking forward to Bob Hope’s performance aboard our ship, called the USS Princeton. (It was actually a World War II aircraft carrier that housed 40 helicopters along with 2,000 marines. The helicopters took off and landed from the carrier using the “quick strike” concept.)

We sauntered downtown Olongapo for dinner and drinks. My memory is that there were a lot of honky tonk bars. I think we listened to some music, too. Then we found a beautiful cathedral for midnight Mass. As we exited the cathedral the military police rounded up our battalion landing team and ordered us back to the ship. Apparently the North Vietnamese had made a move, “flapped out” and our Christmas plans abruptly changed. A heavy sense of disappointment and feeling pissed off sucked us dry of the holiday spirit. Instead of Bob Hope filling us with Christmas cheer, we sailed to Saigon on Christmas Day. After hours of meetings and trainings, and homesickness creeping in, I remember a group of 4 or 5 of us gathering on the flight deck at sunset.

As the sun dropped into the South China Sea, molten crimson, gold, and violet splintered the sky. An impromptu sing-a-long started and our group of officers belted out Christmas carols as twilight darkened to night. Talk about wild and weird….an unforgettable Christmas.

~Mike Mattecheck

Christmas 1995

Christmas 1995 outside of Lyon, France

In my undergraduate years, I had the opportunity to study abroad in Sweden for a semester. I chose to go for the fall so I could be in Europe for Christmas, even though that meant being away from home for the holidays at the age of 20. Looking back, I don’t recall being concerned about missing out on Christmas with my family. Studying in Europe was a grand adventure and I was focused on all there was to learn, see, and do. Plus, my older siblings had already missed a Christmas or two, so I’d already experienced a change in the Christmas traditions. I think I felt like this was my turn. However, as Christmas neared, it hit me that there would be no Christmas tree, no gifts, and none of my mom’s and grandma’s tasty cooking.

Some friends and I chose to travel through the holidays instead. As a Swedish-American, starting out in Sweden felt natural. The Swedish customs and traditions of Christmas were quite familiar to me and comforting. Then a couple days before Christmas, we left Sweden for France. By Christmas Eve we ended up in a small town outside of Lyon, France. (Any of the Americans in our study abroad program who were traveling in December had all decided to meet up in this little town to be a “family” together on Christmas – since we were all leagues away from our immediate families.) The hostel we stayed in was more like a small camp and we were the only guests. So we pooled our talents and resources to make it as Christmas-y as we could. It was only this night we were all together so we each chipped in for our Christmas dinner. It was basically a smorgasbord of French bread, Swedish pancakes, fruits, and veggies. We set up one long table for about a dozen of us to have our “feast.” And that was Christmas 1995…a bunch of Americans in a small town in France making memories.

~Anna Carlson

Christmas 1999

My only Christmas away from home was the year I was studying abroad in Salzburg, Austria. Brian (my husband now and boyfriend at the time) was visiting, snow blanketed the ground, and I was living in one of the most charming cities in Europe. As magical as it was, there’s nothing quite like being home with family. And being only 19 at the time, I was really homesick! There were about 20 students who were at the Center (our building where we lived and took classes) and so our group cooked a big dinner and we enjoyed our holiday as much as we could. Most of the details blur together with one exception.

We attended midnight Mass at the main cathedral in downtown Salzburg. The church was drafty and cold and the crowd stayed bundled up in their hats and gloves. The traditions and rituals of a Catholic Mass are universal no matter what country you’re in, so I was able to understand and connect with the service even though my understanding of German was poor. The most poignant and memorable moment came when two men climbed into the elevated pulpit and played “Silent Night” on their acoustic guitars.  The packed congregation completely hushed and the gentle voices of these men rang throughout the mighty church. They continued singing through every single verse and it still ended too soon. My eyes were clouded with tears as wonderment and peace filled my heart. While this moment didn’t make me miss my family any less, I knew I’d just received the most beautiful gift. We walked home that night knowing we would never forget our Christmas in Salzburg.

~Molly Schultz

Christmas 2009

The only Christmas I have spent away from home was in 2009. I was spending fall semester abroad in England and the English university system breaks for several weeks over the holiday and then resumes for final exams before the term finishes at the end of January. What this meant for us foreigners was several weeks to tour wherever our time would take us until we needed to return for finals.

My parents and younger brother came to visit and we spent a whirlwind three weeks exploring England, Spain, and France (I journeyed to Poland for the last bit of the break after they’d returned to Oregon.)  Appropriately, we found ourselves in The City of Lights, aka Paris, on Christmas Eve and Day. To give us something exciting to do on a day when most everything is closed, my mom planned an outing to Paris Disneyland! It certainly wasn’t a traditional Christmas, but I found I didn’t mind. I was with those I normally spend the holiday with anyway, so being somewhere new wasn’t a problem.

I will say, however, Christmas 2010 was that much more memorable because it had been two years since we sat at home baking cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning!

~Katie Paysinger

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One-Oh-Eight

What’s in a number? How do you measure time? 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Ever seen the musical Rent? It’s my second all-time favorite Broadway show (behind Wicked). There’s a song titled “525,600 minutes – how do you measure a year?” It’s been spinning through my mind as I compose this post.

Care to guess what the big whoop is about 108? Ah-ha – I knew one of my sharp readers might nail it….we’ve been home for 108 days today. (with one caveat: not as I publish this post, rather when I wrote it originally last week!) And, that’s precisely how long we were gone on our voyage. Those of you who know me well remember that I am a”dates” person. Usually my date recall is spot-on…truly it’s a gift that probably makes you green with envy. Alas, I’ve found myself doing a fair amount of reminiscing these days.

And I’m not the only one. No kidding, Vivian started rummaging around her immaculate (not) room, plucking various mementos from the voyage one morning recently. She’s the one who actually gave me the idea for this post. Before I knew it, she had assembled a little shrine to showcase memories from Semester at Sea. Naturally I had to snap a photo to share with y’all.

Truth be told, time passed at a snail’s pace when we were on the ship. The quick days in each port gave me whiplash, but life at sea was another matter. Writhing on your cabin bed from seasickness I guess will do that to the average person. So will heading to the dining room for your three squares a day, which aren’t so appetizing after a few short weeks. Or attempting to convince your children to do more than 20 minutes of school work a day ( my knowledge and experience as a teacher meant nada to Vivian and William!) Ahh, those were the days…

William still doesn't cooperate for photos!

But, like pregnancy and childbirth….the more distance that separates us makes the experience that much sweeter. As overjoyed as I was to arrive back home, I’m already missing what I can’t have back as a land lubber. Our recent beach trip and hike out to the tip of Cape Lookout reminded me of those infinite ocean vistas that I took for granted.

I’ve always been a view junkie, but really, I didn’t GET how spectacular those ocean views were when I had them 24-7. Check out how the panorama ocean backdropped my everyday life: Outdoor dining on deck 6 at the Garden Lounge.  P.E. with the kids on the deck 7 Miller Court. Yoga on B days on deck 5 aft. Sunrise through the faculty lounge windows when I stumbled in, bleary-eyed at 6 a.m. to pour my coffee and head to the computer lab to upload my blog posts. Trying to check my e-mail at the pool deck in the afternoons(because the server shut down on me that morning), when I wasn’t supervising “P.E.”  Jogging back and forth on deck 7 (opposite Miller Court) when I couldn’t score one of the two treadmills….the oceans of the world kept me in a bear hug for almost 4 months and I didn’t appreciate them a lot of the time.

This shot is at the tip of Cape Lookout...and a ringer for the ocean views we enjoyed everyday aboard the MV Explorer!

After experiencing the Caribbean Sea, the Amazon River, Atlantic Ocean, Indian Ocean, South China Sea, and the southern-ish Pacific, I’ve gained a different perspective on the Oregon coast. The Oregon coast distinguishes itself from stereotypical west coast beaches due to its abundance of rugged beauty. I have to admit there are plenty of other beaches I’d choose for a vay-cay over the Oregon coast. Why? I like to be warm.  However, it’s hard to surpass nature’s aesthetics here in the Northwest. Verdant stands of timber literally roll into the coast line and wide, mellow beaches link the mighty Pacific with the mountains. No doubt, we’re talking gorgeous scenery with a capital G.  But….it’s usually cold. Frequently windy. Often rainy or misty.

The kids and their granddad soaking up typical Oregon coast weather!

On our summer trip to the coast (thanks to my sister Mary and her new hubby Doug who graciously let us stay in their beach house while they honeymooned in Ireland!) the majestic Pacific bowled me over in the auditory sense.  I never, ever recall being aware of how LOUD the ocean is here in Oregon. Breakers as deep as a football field thundered so loud you’ve got to practically yell to be heard .The rumbly waves dwarfed my kids’ shrieks of delight as they pranced in the liquid ice. If I couldn’t see their joyful smiles I’d have had no way of knowing they were lovin’ every minute.

Now where was I? Oh yeah, swept up in my ocean dreams….let’s get back on track. At 108 days out, what else do I miss? Well, the people. It took a little while to get used to the social dynamic on the ship, but the friendships we made I think will last. I feel fortunate I get to talk with a couple friends regularly and Facebook makes it easy to keep in touch with many more. On some levels I miss the sense of community that ship life afforded. Such an intense shared adventure will never be duplicated.

I miss that nervous, excited feeling of anticipation that filled me every time before we docked at a new port. That adrenalin buzz fueled me each instance as we wondered about the new country. After “surface research” using guide books checked out 2 hours at a time from the MV Explorer’s library, hit-and-miss Internet searches, perusing my binder of Semester at Sea sponsored field trips (which we didn’t do many of), and LOTS of talking to other shipmates, we’d have our game plan mapped out.

The Pre-Port lecture the night before arrival would arm us with the most up-to-date info regarding money, language, transportation, and necessary cultural insight. Then the morning of…slathering on sunscreen, often bug repellant, stuffing the backpack and money belt with all the essentials, waiting to get cleared from immigration (that process varied dramatically from country to country), and then finally….walking down the gangway. Relief (to be on land) and trepidation (how would we find our way?), mixed with the thrill of exploration produced the ultimate rush for me. Now, those WERE the days…

What I’m about to reveal to you is a little bit surprising to me. I didn’t think I’d need to scratch that itch so soon. The yearning to GO is alive and kicking inside me. Like an addict, travel is my drug and I need my fix. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a blast on our camping trips and local excursions this summer. I love where I live – somebody should pay me to be the poster child for Oregon tourism (oh wait they used to – but that’s another post)! But the desire to explore new and faraway places is burning through my fingertips as I type this. We live on a wild and wonderful planet and I got to take a bite of it on Semester at Sea! But there’s no going back for seconds at my table for now. Sigh. Financially we’ve got to take care of some other priorities and since I quit my J-O-B to try this writing gig full time, well….now’s the time to be prudent.

So, dear readers, thanks for sticking with me all these months. I’ll still keep prattling away on this Experiential Passage. Share with me your travel aspirations and adventures! I love that. Reading around the world is the next best thing. Can I get an Amen?!

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One month: reflecting back and looking forward

Today marks the one month anniversary since we’ve returned from Semester at Sea. Anniversary seems like a strange term for such a brief amount of time, but really, it’s a milestone in more ways than one.

Some of my readers have let me know they’ve missed reading posts about our journey. I’ve missed writing the posts….and I’ve missed the vibe my readership cast around me. The support from my readers was like a grizzly bear hug via cyberspace that encouraged me to muddle through times of doubt, homesickness, and isolation. You helped me celebrate: the highs of global adventure, successful transitions between ports and shiplife, and navigating the challenges foreign travel with the kiddos. This past month I’ve reflected on what an integral part my blog (and my readers) played in my growth on this profound experiential passage. And I’m sure I’ll continue to process the whole experience as time unfolds. So, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading Experiential Passage. You rock!

Enough of the philosophical ruminating…. Want to know what the past 30 days have been like? Honestly, it feels like we’ve been home for a year rather than just a month. That first week was a blur of jumping back into the grind without a second to breathe. All those transitions on the voyage definitely prepared us for the ultimate transition…back to Everyday Life.  Stumbling into our place close to midnight, I was bowled over by how enormous our house felt, almost palatial! Our housesitters left it clean and clutter-free, which lasted, um, 5 minutes. The next day an implosion of laundry, paper (all the mail) and toys (William spread out his cars and trains in every single room) turned our “palace” into a pigpen!

Besides marveling at the hugeness of the house, I noticed how green and well-kept our neighborhood was, and how safe and quaint our hometown felt. That fresh perspective and new sense of appreciation for our little life that we’d returned to wasn’t something I’d anticipated. I felt incredibly grateful for not only a renewed sense of place but also for the people who welcomed us back. The warmth of family and friends reminded us there really is no place like home!

So here we are, one month later. Jobs, school, meetings, church, T ball, dance lessons, social engagements fill the calendar, sucking us back into the whirlwind of Everyday Life. The novelty of grocery shopping and cooking again hasn’t worn off yet, but making the beds and cleaning the bathrooms has (where’s Joel when I need him??) So, much feels the same, but I’ve been indelibly changed by the experience, so there is a difference.

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” ~ Anais Nin

Our adventure helped empower me to start writing a new chapter in my life. I’ve resigned from my school district. After 35 continuous years in school (first as a student, then as an educator) it’s time to reinvent myself. Trying something brand-new scares and invigorates me in such an alien way; in fact the last time I felt remotely like this was waaayyy back in 1989 when Mr. Chapman handed me my high school diploma. It’s time to rock and roll again….

So, what’s next? Well, I plan to launch my own writing business this summer. As a freelance travel writer for the past 3 years, I hope to expand my publications, starting with this blog! Look for me to write posts regularly about cool (if not faraway) places. Unfortunately, I won’t be sailing around the world again any time soon…. but if I can’t thrill you with stories of exotic locales, maybe I can entice to get out and explore your own corner of the world.

Besides my travel writing, I plan to seek out more opportunities, particularly with content writing for the web and website audits. My plans evolve day by day, so who knows? Chances are you, my devoted readers, will be the first to know!

The sunsets just aren't quite the same any more!

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