Press play first.
As I am writing this bit I am twisted into my blanket on my bed, in my room, in our communal home, in San Diego, in California, in the United States, in North America, in planet Earth, in the solar system, in Milky Way Galaxy, floating along with other billions of galaxies, in a vast expanding universe, in infinity and all the things we will never know.
I currently have five blog posts waiting to be finished, this being one of them. I’ve written and re-written this in spurts, in different times, different days, different places. So I’m just going to let the rest spill and talk to you. Human to human.
I’ve honestly felt out of place this year. Ever since I stepped off the plane and back into familiarity, that’s what I’ve felt like. Kind of like a fish out of water. But then again I know I’ll always feel that way when I’m not traveling. The road is the only place I can ever truly feel and call my home. And so I struggled for the first few months when I came back last year. From disheartening family issues, to finding a job, to accumulating debt and paying it off, to moving out and living on my own again while trying to budget and save as much as I possibly can, it was tough. But I have harbored resilience. I started practicing gratitude. Of being thankful for what I have, wherever I am. It doesn’t take that long for the light to seep in, so it came and stayed. I found a day job, starting doing more freelance work, my blog grew and wonderful opportunities opened up, moved into a sunny communal home with beautiful energy and beautiful souls right by the lagoon and things got better. Connected with kindred spirits with big dreams and similar paths that these brave souls have created on their own. I went on spontaneous short bursts of adventures to pacify my wanderlust. I mirrored my demons, accepted harsh realities about myself, and through it all I became a better human being. I’ll always belief that we should always pursue becoming a better person than we were yesterday. My heart bursts in gratitude for this year’s lessons, growth, and epiphanies that feed my soul.
The biggest lesson that I’ve learned over this past year, is to always come back to gratitude. No matter whatever thoughts and emotions come to cloud you. Always come back to this present moment. In gratitude. Even if it’s something small like the food in your mouth. The water in your glass. The wind in your hair. The pencil in your hand. The birds in your backyard. A child’s laugh. When you feel grateful for simple things you’ll find plenty of other things to be grateful for and the universe will give you more of it. And at the end of the day, you’re still here. You’re still alive. You’re still breathing. There is still beauty everywhere. And there is still love everywhere.
Gratitude is the highest vibration there is. We must choose to count our blessings, not our worries. Through immersing ourselves in the present moment we become more grateful. Through becoming more grateful we are allowing goodness in. Through allowing goodness in comes the trust that everything will always be okay, always perfectly placed in heartbeats and in breaths.
I will take it all with me on the road.
I’m leaving for Asia in seven weeks. With only a few grand by the time I leave, I’ve decided to live on the road indefinitely. Couchsurfing, volunteer work, doing freelance work with photography and writing, working on The Wanderers project, working on the blog, but above it all: exploring the unfathomably beautiful world I have infinite love for.
I have no specific plans other than I will be in Bali for at least a couple months. And that I’ll be wandering through Asia. I’ll be on the road I call my home. I’m more than happy just by knowing that. That’s all I really need to know. I know that I’ll forever love the feeling of being moonstruck and madly in love with a place I have never been to before, a place I’ve been aching for. And that moment I step out of the airport, with all my belongings perched on my back, my first day in the country I have lusted over for too long. The uncertainty & the unknown ahead. And the warmth I find in it. The abounding stories waiting to be seen, heard, and told. It’s one of the best feelings in the world. Wanderlust sustains me.
It settles in at around this time. Always around the last two months before I fly off. When there is a certain calm, when everything is beginning to look clear again. Clear enough to reveal the unknown. I’m going back to the road on my own. I’m going back to raw days in raw places. To marvels. To heightened senses. To new eyes. To strange beautiful things. To delicious ambiguity. To wherever the wind blows. I’m going back home. That familiar calm is back. And I am comforted by the unknown that awaits.
The last two months will be a blink. From here, I float on.
49 more sleeps.