I Wanted To See Everything
I was a kid who played in the woods every single day after school until it was dark outside. Building forts, collecting leaves and twigs for fake fires to cook invisible meals, walking down to see if there was water in the creek, growing in an imaginary world that felt much more real than any other. And then we moved away from the woods and my world of play became one neighborhood block with identically spaced houses and nowhere to really be invisible. It was kind of devastating. At 10 years old I promised that as soon as I was an adult, I'd return to that world of possibility and adventure. Because adults make decisions and I was planning to make good ones.
Then, in High School, my parents signed me up for a summer course with Colorado Outward Bound School. This brought me from an angry teenager back to a place of confidence and freedom. I saw that the world was larger than anything going on at my school, with my friends, or in my town. The world was open and huge and beautiful and I knew I could survive it with grace. I wish that every single teenager could have that experience, to know how strong they are and how brief their individual sadness measures in the scheme of our giant planet.
After it was over, I returned back to a block of symmetrical houses and evenly spaced trees. And every day I thought about my time in the woods. Like, every.single.dang.day. So I went back the next summer. And every summer in college, I would head straight to Colorado to be near the mountains where people couldn't build flat city blocks lined with trees. I hiked up everything just to get to the top, I climbed with some really great people. I met new friends who talked about funny things like sticky rubber on climbing shoes, the merits between a 3 season versus a 4 season tent, a down bag versus a synthetic bag, and wicking properties. So many conversations about layering and wicking!
In between summers I would travel as much as possible - to Europe, to Moab, to California, to Israel. To move meant exploring and expanding that world of imagination, and bringing it everywhere with me. I saw that other people were doing this too, which was exciting. I didn't want this to end. So I moved to Spain. And then hung out there for five months, spent all of my money at Zara and came home to live in my parents basement. So glamorous in my brand new Euro-wardrobe, living in the basement sharing a room with my dad's treadmill. Jeez. After saving money for another year I booked it to Boulder, my home sweet home. I met many people, made the very best friends in the world.
When Spencer and I met (which is a different story, posted here) we were both excited to travel, so we started to plan out an extended trip. There were also many conversations over glasses of happy hour house wine imagining where we might be in a year, typically arriving at an answer something like: "we really couldn't say" (hands thrown into the air for emphasis). What a joy to be so unsure of the future. I mean, anything at all could happen.
Here's what did happen.
Originally, we were planning to quit our jobs and move to India. Forever. Or six months. Or whenever one of us just had enough.
Then, we realized we could extend our travel by working remotely.
And we were incredibly fortunate to receive the green light to do so.
Which meant that staying in a time zone close to the USA would be important. And we love Central America. And would could drive there. And we could take our lovely pup, Monet.
So a new plan was devised. We would pack up the Subaru and drive through Central America for the next year, starting in Mexico. I would work remotely, Spencer would take cooking classes and ride his mountain bike. There would be plenty of beach time and days of exploration. We were pretty excited to see where these new roads would lead us...
Then, in High School, my parents signed me up for a summer course with Colorado Outward Bound School. This brought me from an angry teenager back to a place of confidence and freedom. I saw that the world was larger than anything going on at my school, with my friends, or in my town. The world was open and huge and beautiful and I knew I could survive it with grace. I wish that every single teenager could have that experience, to know how strong they are and how brief their individual sadness measures in the scheme of our giant planet.
After it was over, I returned back to a block of symmetrical houses and evenly spaced trees. And every day I thought about my time in the woods. Like, every.single.dang.day. So I went back the next summer. And every summer in college, I would head straight to Colorado to be near the mountains where people couldn't build flat city blocks lined with trees. I hiked up everything just to get to the top, I climbed with some really great people. I met new friends who talked about funny things like sticky rubber on climbing shoes, the merits between a 3 season versus a 4 season tent, a down bag versus a synthetic bag, and wicking properties. So many conversations about layering and wicking!
In between summers I would travel as much as possible - to Europe, to Moab, to California, to Israel. To move meant exploring and expanding that world of imagination, and bringing it everywhere with me. I saw that other people were doing this too, which was exciting. I didn't want this to end. So I moved to Spain. And then hung out there for five months, spent all of my money at Zara and came home to live in my parents basement. So glamorous in my brand new Euro-wardrobe, living in the basement sharing a room with my dad's treadmill. Jeez. After saving money for another year I booked it to Boulder, my home sweet home. I met many people, made the very best friends in the world.
When Spencer and I met (which is a different story, posted here) we were both excited to travel, so we started to plan out an extended trip. There were also many conversations over glasses of happy hour house wine imagining where we might be in a year, typically arriving at an answer something like: "we really couldn't say" (hands thrown into the air for emphasis). What a joy to be so unsure of the future. I mean, anything at all could happen.
Here's what did happen.
Originally, we were planning to quit our jobs and move to India. Forever. Or six months. Or whenever one of us just had enough.
Then, we realized we could extend our travel by working remotely.
And we were incredibly fortunate to receive the green light to do so.
Which meant that staying in a time zone close to the USA would be important. And we love Central America. And would could drive there. And we could take our lovely pup, Monet.
So a new plan was devised. We would pack up the Subaru and drive through Central America for the next year, starting in Mexico. I would work remotely, Spencer would take cooking classes and ride his mountain bike. There would be plenty of beach time and days of exploration. We were pretty excited to see where these new roads would lead us...