The Great Reset

I’m already home sick.
I walk around North Vancouver and look at the mountains and ocean, and I think about my life here, and I already miss it. I miss my rainforest, the black earth under my feet, the moss in my fingers, the giant mushrooms. Spending my days with my hiking buddies bagging peaks and hunting whiskey stashes and hidden giants. Night runs in the rain and mud with my faithful trail doggy. The golden morning sunlight on the freshly powdered mountain tops. My little community of neighbours who for months after Sammy was gone asked me, “where’s your dog?” whenever they saw me walking by myself. My favourite coffee shop where the owner calls me “Sweetie” and knows that I want four sugars in my coffee. All of the friends I’ve met through running, hiking, sailing—the people who became my support system in the hardest years of my life, when I lost my health, my business, and even my home in one fell swoop.

But as much as I love this little Paradise, it’s just a tiny corner of the globe. I want to see more. More mountains. More seas. More communities. History. Architecture. Cultures. People.

And now that I'm working solely online, this is the time. North Vancouver will always be my heart's home, and I will be back sometime to my “real” profession, but for now I want a break and a reboot. This is my chance to reset, restart, and do some of the traveling that I’ve always wanted to do. One of the beautiful things about it is that nearly everywhere is less expensive than here, so my cost of living decreases as soon as I leave here; I have an opportunity to travel, work, and even save some money at the same time.

The plan started during the covid lockdowns, but initially I was waiting—the world was closed and I couldn’t travel with a 15/16-year-old dog. After Sammy departed in June, I shifted gears and began the real movement. I’ve been purging my belongings and ticking things off of my enormous to-do list. It’s been a massive task, but now that I am only a few weeks away from flying, there is light at

the end of the tunnel.

With that also comes a certain amount of anxiety. I woke up on February 1 with the thought, “oh crap, I only have four weeks!” The week was a flurry of activity. The whole month will continue to be full of last-minute tasks, packing, cleaning, changing address, getting everything into storage, dealing with my phone, and all of that. And every so often I have a moment where I think, “what the fuck am I doing??”

I was talking to a friend on the phone the other day and she said, "Believe that the universe is looking out for you."

I said, "I don't believe that the universe is looking out for me. The universe has fucked me over too many times for that to be true. What I believe in is my own ability to make the best of whatever happens."

***

On Friday night I had some girl friends over to help me “Marie Kondo” my clothing. I had been having a large amount of anxiety over my clothes since I can only take a few. Thank goodness for wine and girlfriends! We managed to get clothes and shoes into one suitcase, so I will have room in my other luggage for computer, toiletries, etc.

On Saturday night some other friends came over to spend some time, since I have no idea when I’ll be back. Have I mentioned that I’m going to miss everyone here?? Thank you for making the effort to see me before I go.

I’m feeling a lot less anxiety today. It will all come together.

***

The plan (such as it is):

I fly to Calgary on March 2 to spend a week with family. Then on March 9 I will fly overnight to London and then Rome. I will spend the first 30 days in Rome, moving on to Florence and (probably) Sicily. I can spend 90 days in Europe without a visa, after which I have to leave Europe for 90 days. 90 in, 90 out. So after the first 90 days in Italy, I plan to move on to Turkey for 90 days. After that, back to Europe… and so forth.

People keep asking how long I will go… and I honestly have no idea. I’ve never done this before. The longest I’ve ever traveled is three weeks. This time it’s a one-way ticket. Maybe in six months I’m too home sick and I come back. Maybe I go for six years. Maybe I never come back.

It’s entirely open-ended.

All I know right now is that I have a plane ticket to Rome and the first Airbnb booked. Beyond that… I will go where my little heart takes me.

Questions? Comment so I will know what to write about next. :)