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Life is a Journey, Savor it.


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Ode to My Mamacita

It’s hard to believe it was nearly 15 years ago that my mother and I argued over banal shit (oops, sorry mom: banal stuff). We’ve both changed by multiple measures since those days of being co-hormonal and grinching about the laundry, what to have for dinner, each others’ driving skills (or lack thereof, depending upon perspective).

Both of us have experienced tremendous losses of multiple loved ones. Sometimes we’ve shared those losses: uncle/brother, best friends, parent/Opa. Each subsequent loss has left us each more tender to the world but raw towards each other, isolated and hurt in our grieving. More often than not, our mournings have been separate as we glimpse at one another, cautiously offering empathy from afar but never quite comfortable co-habitating in the difficult emotional spaces of tragedy and disease.

The quote may belong to Emerson but it is the parenting philosophy embraced by my mother.

The quote may belong to Emerson but it is the parenting philosophy embraced by my mother.

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If–>Then: Planning & Decision-making

I aim to be optimistic and always provide a genuinely encouraging portrayal of travel and life on the road but right now it feels downright dull and aggravating. Aggravating because of the combination of a plethora of options and my indecision paralysis are slowly driving me nuts. I know I don’t really have anything to complain about and I know my life is damn good; I’m blessed beyond measure to be able to travel footloose and fancy free–but I shall whine a bit regardless… Without the urgency of a compressed timeline (e.g. vacation, sabbatical) or the restrictions of needing to adhere to a specific itinerary, I find myself feeling listless and uninspired for the first time in months. I’ve been going for the better part of a year and it appears I’ve hit my slump.

For the record: I adore Waffle House (scattered, covered, smothered).

For the record: I adore Waffle House (scattered, covered, smothered).


My drive to pack up the backpack and hit the road is on hiatus. The itchy feet that plagued me months ago are feeling heavy and reluctant to put on more miles. The novelty of unfettered travel has lost some of its luster and now I feel like I’m sitting alone on a sticky vinyl booth inside an all-night diner; it’s 1am. The broken fluorescent lights twinkle off the dented silver milk tin next to my bottomless cup-o-joe as an indifferent waitress stares down at me. Though there are no other customers, she is impatient and irritated with me. Continue reading


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Flying Solo, finding a balance

I like flying solo. I like it that my days are my own. I like that I get to set my schedule and go where the winds take me. I enjoy quiet meals alone, or alone in the company of a book.

I also adore afternoons spent with a friend, poolside and catching up in our respective latests. I like dropping by a friend’s shop and whiling away the hours laughing and learning words in another language. I enjoy showing up for a yoga class and then trying out a new lunch place with a classmate.

Life is in the balance. Finding time for myself creates peace and serenity. Too much time alone and without the warm love and stimulation of people to care about leaves me feeling dingy and isolated. Continue reading


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Comfy shoes-ville

Coming back to Chiang Mai is like comfy shoes. The streets are familiar, I practically know the yoga schedules by heart, and there’s always delicious food to be had. Best of all there are familiar and friendly faces to reunite with and exchange hugs.

A common refrain amongst those who call chiang Mai home is that many–okay most–came here for a 2 days, were just passing through, or otherwise considered CM just one more stop along the SE Asian travel circuit. What none expected to find was a place that basically exudes a magnetic pull: if you feel it, you can’t leave the force field until CM decides to let you.
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Tribe of Wayfarers & The Tao of “living right”

“Friends remind us of who we truly are.”

It seems with every passing day these words gain new meaning. I blush to think how lucky I am for the friends in my life–for they constantly reassure me and egg me on, as if a silly childhood challenge: “go on, I dare you–you be you. See how you you can be…”

Any my what a challenge that is! Isn’t it curious? The thing that should come so naturally is in fact so elusive… Why is this? How did it come to be this way? Has it always been so..?

We often talk of “being grounded,” but how do we understand and what is implied by this phrase? In the sense of physics gravity effects us all the same. I am no more or less subject to Newton’s universal law than he or she or y’all over there–that’s why it’s called universal, duh! My feet are just as grounded as anyone else’s yet why has it felt that I’m adrift, wayward, grasping my toes towards the solid earth? Continue reading