So we left. (See story on running away here.)

Fueled by desire (and compulsion) we hit the road.

Husband + wife + dog. All nicely tucked into a conversion van. (See photo.)

We thought we’d go North in the summer and South in the winter. We did the opposite.

We crissed and crossed, up and down, left and right. We got familiar with the landscape. We saw lots and were delighted.

And we learned some things too.

Here’s the short list:

• People are mostly good. Like 99.9% of the people we met. Good. All the way through. Powered up my faith. For sure.
• Many, many people have this dream of hitting the road. But they saw Lost in America and never do it. (There are a zillion reasonable reasons not to do what we did. A zillion. But really? How do you answer your heart when it’s says yes!)
• Which brings us to…listening to your heart. Or your gut. Or the goosebumps. Or that feeling in your bones. To trusting yourself to know what’s right. You can feel it. In your body. If you need to find a new home, this is the way to do it. For sure.
• Logistics (figuring out where to sleep + eat + pee) on a daily basis is an energy suck. Structure has it’s place. Stability is a beautiful thing.
• Showers are overrated. Toilets are not. (Lest you think I don’t take showers, I’m here to assure you that I’m now happily living with modern plumbing.)
• Small is cozy and requires stellar organization. Some might say that means you really don’t need much. Which is true in a van.
• Food is about more than satisfying hunger. It fuels hope and faith. And it must be good. When it’s not, it’s heart-breaking.
• This country is beautiful. Stunning. Amazing. Paving over paradise sucks wherever it happens.
• Having a dog is an freakin’ asset. He will start conversations with strangers and introduce you to the nicest people. (Totally worth the three times he threw up on our bed.)
• I have conjuring skills. I was able to manifest Big Horn Sheep.
• I like having a home. I can make it anywhere. Nesting. It’s just what I do.

As you can see, lots of growth, affirmation, and clarification.

But 7 months in and we had yet to discover our new hometown.

Colorado was not our mecca. (I know, I know, we thought it would be too. And we’ll definitely spend more time there.)

We were still searching.

We had a short list of kind of maybes and were begrudgingly still on the road.

Winter was approaching. It was getting cold and we didn’t have a plan.

I made a plan.

Drive this route: Madison, Milwaukee, Chicago, up the east side of Lake Michigan, across Canada to Portland, Maine. Stop. Rent apartment. Pick-up in the Spring.

That was the plan. We’ll spend the winter there because I like it. And because I came up with a plan first.

Off we went.

We got as far as Milwaukee.

There we met:

• Amazing people. (Yes, I’m talking to you. You know who you are.)
• History told in the layers of industry, street names, buildings, and beer.
• Walkable neighborhoods + urban cool.
• Art. Both the street kind and the codified kind.
• A Lake. The great kind.
• Food. The tasty kind. The artisan + old school kind. The charcuterie + brats kind.
• The Packers. (Need I say more?)

We both got excited. We both felt it in our beings. A giddy excitement. A wide-eyed tingling of possibility.

So we decided to stay.

Days turned into weeks… turned into months… turned into a firm decision to root ourselves here.

It took us awhile. There were twists and turns.

Yet here we are. At the end of this circuitous path.

Home. :)

My life in brief…

B. 1970, New Haven, Connecticut. (It was a short stay.)

Transported to Los Angeles, to the land of the rich and fair. (Felt poor and ugly, despite being well off and not bad looking, in that awkward teenager way.)

Got the hell out of dodge. (Felt like a fish out of water in L.A. But I still say ‘Dude’ and ‘Totally’. Go figure.)

Majored in Cultural Anthropology at UC Berkeley. (That was the apex of my post-modern, smarty-pants, over-achiever days.)

Spent a year abroad in the South of France. (Faked my knowledge of French until I could actually speak it.)

Worked on a research grant. Decided it was more fun to be a shop girl. (That’s a longer story. The crux of it? It’s always all about the people. Follow the people and the connection.)

Moved to New York City. (Didn’t want to grow old without a full-on CBGB, NY experience. Boy, did I get that.)

Moved to Berlin. Just for a short bit. (Transformative. Sadly, didn’t learn German.)

Back to Berkeley. $70 in my bank account.

Temped at a software company. Got hired the day they went public. (Sheer, freakin’ luck? We’ll never know.)

Worked my way up the corporate ladder and loved it. (Thrived. Ate it up. Wanted more.)

Flourished in my career. PROJECT MANAGER EXTRAORDINAIRE. (Really. You want me to manage your projects. I rock at this.)

Rode the dot.com boom and bust. (Need I say more?)

Decided to take a break. (Something was missing. Now what?)

Discovered the Alexander Technique. Huge turning point. (This is when I got in touch with the healer-teacher in me and allowed my right-brain some space to play. I helped a ton of people get out of bodily pain and ran a successful business.)

Discovered I loved being an entrepreneur, running a business, and marketing authentically. (Did I say, love? I meant LOVE!)

Yearned for more and different. And followed that yearning.

Which brings me to the here and now and where I bring together ALL the experience of my past with my natural inborn talents.

It’s a beautiful melding of…

• a deep study and understanding of people
• righteous project management skills
• highly tuned sensing what’s happening in the body
• loving, living, and breathing business strategy

So that’s me.

Want more non-business, personal bits? Here are 10 Things You Might Not Know About Me.

There were signs.

Clouds parting. Improbable whale sightings. Impromptu conversations with the perfect strangers.

Signs all leading to confirmation. The Universe was saying in no uncertain terms: DO IT!

So we did. . .

We packed our stuff. (The stuff we truly loved.)

We gave away a lot. “Here take this. You, would you like that?”

We sold the rest…cars, TV, couches, planters, tools, all of it.

We made mistakes. I get weepy thinking about my bygone spice collection. (But healing is buying new spices, right?)

From the decision to departure? 1 month.

Like if we didn’t do it now, we’d talk ourselves out of it.

Instead, we were as fast as the wind and blew on out of there. It was crazy, but actually pretty seamless. Another good sign.

We left. Gung-ho. On an adventure. Husband, wife, and dog.

We hit the road, in the vehicle we lovingly called the MU, short for Mobile Unit. Because living in the MU sounds so much less homeless than living in a van.

But we were, in fact, homeless and living in a van. By choice and with intention, but, nonetheless homeless and van. Go figure.

We were traveling fast toward a new destination, to a new life, and yet we had no idea where we were going or what we were doing. We were fueled by compulsion.

Compulsion? Why this compulsion to get away?

What were we running from?

I did ask those questions. Later.

I understood the point was to find a new home, a new way of living, a new tribe, new energy, new sights and sounds, even new weather.

But why the hurry? Why the urgency? What were you running from, girly?

Why would you leave your beautifully constructed, well-oiled life?

Here are the answers that come easily, that float to the surface:

• Adventure. It was time for one.
• Great. The status quo was good. Really quite good. But I was ready for GREAT.
• Finances. That we would use all our money to pay for the house on the hill and be slaves to the mortgage forever and ever. Which leads to…
• Freedom. The incredible high of not being shackled to anything. (This admittedly strange coming from a nester.)
• Desire. For new sights, sounds, smells, and tastes. A clean slate. A do-over.
• Connection. To a new place, to each other, to our lives more fully.

All good reasons. All true.

Yet they don’t answer the question of urgency, right?

The answer?

I wasn’t paying attention.

Really. Yup. As simple as that.

All the previous messages were ignored. All the signs to tweak this and change that–vaguely felt and rushed past.

So when the idea came to pick up and leave, all the parts that had been ignored and buried, rallied together and pushed. And they pushed hard.

Their sum was greater than their parts. This was their chance and they were not going to leave anything to fate. (And yet, one could argue, that’s exactly what it was.)

The momentum they created, when they latched onto the idea, was unstoppable. There was nothing to do but go.

And that is how it happened. That is how we left. In a dead heat. Not quite sure what we were running away from, but certainly running.

And not at all clear about what we were running toward, but knowing that it must be done.

And I don’t regret a thing. (Okay, sometimes I miss the sun on my face + al pastor taco at Tacubaya, my favorite lunch spot in Berkeley, CA.)

The trip was great, the landing was unexpected, and the re-creating of home has been ever so much fun.

You can read about that in on finding home, the circuitous path.