That first step that led me to a discovery and a love for exploration and travel had a domino effect. You take that first step, and the ripples of what you can do, and what you think of doing, expand around and out the more you go, see, taste, laugh and live to tell about it.
It’s no wonder so many of us choose not to choose at all. We stay where it’s comfortable and safe – and boring. That’s why I try to remind myself to make decisions based on conquering my fears instead of avoiding them. It’s a great little mantra; however, following it requires me to put on my big girl pants and be courageous.
I fiercely fight for the right to bear maps. Big maps, fun maps, thinking maps, crinkly maps. Finding a map “outside the screen” can be a challenge, but we scored nicely as I wheeled the rental car into the Hillsboro, OR Visitor’s Center. I’m delighted that my daughter has grown up knowing north from south, rolling with my cartophile quirks, and navigating like a champ.
Take solace in the fact that in a decade, regardless of all the victories and defeats you’ll experience in life, and irrespective of all the wonderful and tragic events you’ll witness in this world, you’ll be able to return to this place and be welcomed. You will have changed. The world will have changed. But the mountain will be exactly as you remembered it.
We are all travelers on this journey of life. May we feel the blessings of tribal magic, and may our home fires burn bright.
Nestled into the dunes of a nature preserve on a remote stretch of beach on the coast of North Carolina stands a solitary mailbox. The “Kindred Spirit” mailbox has lived on a remote stretch called Bird Island for more than 35 years.
Every beginning has the potential to be terrifying. Whether it’s a first date or a first day at a new job, we adults have an unfortunate tendency to allow ourselves to become anxious over all the uncertainty. Imagine if we still approached life with the unabashed fervor of a 6-year-old. Imagine how many beginnings we could conquer…
When you are 8, heading to Camp might be a leap of faith (or a push of faith, thanks to your well-meaning parents). When you are 10 and 11 and 12, it becomes easier to wave goodbye from the camp bus window because you’re a “seasoned” camper, returning to the beloved rituals. At 18 or 38 or 68, heading to Camp becomes an intentional leap of faith. Leaning into the One Summer That Changes You.
Whether you’re in a new place working a seasonal job or at home where you’ve lived your whole life, there are places near you that you’ve never set foot on before. Pick up a map, study it, envision the possibilities that lay before you, and then go claim them.