#62 (& Final): Reflecting

I was waiting to write this next and final post until it hit me that this much-anticipated, once-in-a-lifetime adventure had come to an end. It didn’t hit me when I sold the Airstream. It didn’t even hit me when I started taking a warm shower every day.

Addie & Me

It hit me the other day. Addie and I woke up; I curled up next to her, snuggled her, and told her I loved her. This is an everyday occurrence, but for some reason, this time felt different. I immediately flashed back to doing the same thing on the road, on the Airstream bed, anticipating the day’s adventures.

For the entire year of travel, it was Addie and me against the world. Our tiny home didn’t change much, but what we viewed out the window changed more often than it stayed the same. Each day brought excitement, obstacles, and all types of new perspectives. I wondered if we would have that “partner-in-crime” feeling again like we did every day. Whatever we did, whatever we faced, whatever we conquered, we did it together.

In reflecting, maybe the year was more about Addie and me than I realized. And it’s still “our” story, rather than just mine. From now on, it will be Addie and me - we will face what the future holds together.

Other Reflections

We don’t always see how one given thing is changing us, molding us, benefitting us. All we can do is embrace it: not fight it, let ourselves feel, seize the moment, and be grateful for what we have. 

My year on the road was about living:  Recognizing what I have rather than what I don’t have. Taking a risk. Being comfortable with being uncomfortable. Not harboring every small decision. Doing what I wanted to do instead of what I felt I should do. It was challenging.

I put myself out there, literally. In doing so, I not only found strength, knowledge, and experience, but I also found companionship. A very different type of adventure begins now. I’m off to Texas to start the next chapter. 

As time goes on and I continue to reflect, I will realize other things the year provided. I don’t see them all right now, but I will. 

I’ll sign off with this: if you feel a pull, give in to it. It may be scary, it may require taking a risk, it may be uncertain, but…

Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. – Mark Twain

If you are not willing to risk the unusual, you will have to settle for the ordinary. – Jim Rohn

If it were easy, everyone would do it. – Dad

Thank you for being on this ride with us. 

Lots of love, 

Sarah & Addie

#1: Welcome...and how this crazy idea came to lyfe

Hello!

I’m here! I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on this first blog post. I’ve never had a blog before. And I’ve never done ANYTHING like this (Lyfe in Tow) before. A lot of firsts around here.  

If you’re reading this, you’re on my website (having a website is a first, too). That, for sure, is going to be a work in progress, for which you’ll be “in tow” (I can guarantee that is not the last time you’ll read that play on words). For those of you who aren’t yet familiar with me and my recent upcoming adventure, please read the ABOUT LYFE IN TOW section to get a general idea of what this is all about.  

I’m now one week away from my departure. It’s been about six weeks since my last day of work, five weeks since I left my life in Columbus, OH and two and half weeks since I planted myself at my dad’s house in Virginia to seriously get ready for this trip. In between, I spent some time visiting family and friends and taking some time to, just, breathe (a little bit). For those visual people out there (like me), here is a quick diagram. Yes, nerd alert.

Let’s back up a bit. I’m sure many of you are wondering how the heck this idea came to my mind…and how the heck I actually acted on it. I’m sure as you get to know me better, the incubation of this idea will make more sense, but let’s start here.

This is not something I’ve always wanted to do. Sure, I’ve wanted to visit more national parks and I have a natural curiosity for travel and seeing different places, but it’s not like touring the country in an RV has been something I’ve dreamed about.

A few years ago, after taking an incredible vacation to Alberta, British Columbia, I fell in love with the outdoors. I started following different photographers and social media accounts featuring hiking, traveling, nature, etc. This content excited me, and I started getting ideas for places I wanted to explore. Here are some photos of my momentous journey through the Canadian Rockies.

THEN, in December 2018, I traveled to Tanzania, Africa and summited Mt. Kilimanjaro. What an experience! Although, a story for another day. My point right now is this:  when you climb nearly 20,000 feet up and down over the course of six days, you have a LOT of time to think. Looking back, that trek, and that accomplishment, was a major turning point for me. I will attempt to demonstrate this monumental event with a few photos below.

About four months ago, I was approached with a professional opportunity for a company I’ve always followed, in a city I’ve wanted to live. You know when you feel like all the right pieces are falling into place for the right reasons and at the right time? That’s what this was. I felt this potential change was past due and I was ready to start a new chapter. Long story short…it didn’t pan out. I was pretty bummed (I say that very lightly…I was actually EXTREMELY bummed).  

In summary, the series of major events over the course of a few years went like this:

1. Banff

2. Kilimanjaro

3. Need for change

Of course, there are SO many things before and in between those events, but for now, these are a good foundation.

The following weekend I spent some time sulking, but didn’t let it consume me. I guess over the course of that weekend, that negative energy had been reworked inside me to develop a crazy, cool idea that I would later execute. It’s almost as if that energy went into the weekend as one thing, and came out of the weekend as a completely different (and better) thing.

Monday morning, I went to work. Just like I did every Monday morning. Just like most people do every Monday morning. This moment is pretty vivid in my mind: I was walking to a meeting with a few co-workers (also friends) and just blurted out, “I think I should just quit my job, take a year off and travel the U.S. to the national parks.” I said it quite lightly, like I do with a lot of the outlandish ideas I manage to conjure up. However, one of my friends stopped in her tracks, looked at me and said, “Sarah, I think that it the best idea I’ve ever heard you say.”

That was it. From then on, the gears started turning. And turning rather quickly.

Here’s the thing: I am a single, 38-year-old woman who admittedly spends a lot of time thinking about and wondering what the future holds, or if the life I currently lead is “it” for me. It gets tiring witnessing peer after peer and friend after friend (and ex after ex…) fall in love, get engaged, get married, have babies while I’m on the outside looking in. It’s tough for me to admit this, but it’s important to acknowledge these feelings as I attempt to best explain how I’ve gotten here. The tricky bit is… [***PAUSE***] …my life is pretty awesome. I’m healthy, I’m active, I’m successful (and I actually like working), I have incredible friends and a supportive family, I have many opportunities in front of me and importantly, I have nothing standing in the way of what I want to do. Shit…who doesn’t want all that? Lyfe in Tow is about focusing on, and taking advantage of, what I have…and letting go of focusing on what I (seemingly) don’t have.

I’m excited (among many other feelings), and hope you are too. Whenever you want, please drop me a line on the CONTACT page, and let me know thoughts, gripes, suggestions, tips, advice or whatever else you want to share. I’d love to hear from you.