It’s been over month since my last blog (thank you to those who have asked if you’re still on my list – it’s nice to know I’ve been missed and you enjoy reading my blogs!) So, it’s time to dust myself off and share where I’m at.   First, let me say a huge, heart-felt thank you. The outpouring of love from my last post was unbelievable!   It was hard to share how I was feeling but I realized so many people are dealing with similar challenges. Being honest about what’s going on for us and supporting each other is even more important now, as I realize how many people are silently struggling.   Overall, life is good. I have good days, I have bad days but the good days are lasting longer and longer.   On the bad days, I drive to the cemetery and have a big cry (no one questions a crying person there).   One afternoon, I sat there with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and realized that I had stopped taking care of me. All of the habits and routines I created to make sure I was at my best had fallen to the wayside, forgotten.   Why do we stop doing the things that make us feel better when we so desperately need to feel better?   So, I’ve gone back to the basics of extreme self-care and here’s what’s worked for me:   Talk about it.   I’ve reached out to my fellow Remote Year travellers and realized I’m not alone.   Sharing our stories, remembering our adventures, wondering about our next steps, reminded me that we’re in this together. We understand each other and are here to lift and support in every way.   I’ve also talked with family and friends – deep conversations over wine, around a campfire, with a mug of tea, strolling along the water.   The questions I’m asking are similar to what they’re asking – is this it?   Is this what I want to do with my one, wild and crazy life? And if not, what steps can I take today to move closer to what I really want?   Shift perspective.   When I returned to my job, I felt claustrophobic. My office has four walls and door but no windows or natural light.   The feeling of being trapped caused my heart to race and I realized that I had spent every single day outside for the past year. Of course I’d feel anxious staying indoors for eight hours each day!   Although I hoped working from home would help ease the transition, my company wasn’t supportive and I continued to fall into a depression at the office.   I realized I was isolating myself and that only made things worse so I decided to find something good about working in an office. And the answer was right there – the people.   I reached out to my colleagues and made a conscious effort to strike up conversations, linger in the lunch room and get involved. Slowly, the days began to feel more bearable.   Gratitude.   For the past five years, I’ve faithful maintained a gratitude practice. It was something I learned at a retreat in Bali and it changed my life. (Thanks Carmen – www.carmenmarshallretreats.com)   Every morning, before I open my eyes and dive into the day, I take a few moments to lie there and plan out my day.   I visualize all the details – people I will meet, things I will say, how I want to feel, where I will enjoy lunch, even how smoothly traffic will flow. Then I say “thank you” as my feet touch the ground and my day begins.   Every night before I fall asleep, I review the day and rewrite anything that didn’t go how I wanted it to (our mind can’t tell the difference between “reality” and “imagination” so why not fall asleep remembering things how you wanted them to be?!)   Then I hold up my hands and count down ten things I’m grateful for that day.   Sometimes I don’t get to ten before I fall asleep and other nights I list 20 things. Either way, I fall asleep in a state of gratitude.   Keep it fresh.   After the thrill of exploring a new city or country every month, coming home can feel a little boring. But I’ve been trying to find new ways to appreciate my town.   I drive a different route every time I go somewhere, checking out new neighborhoods and businesses along the way.   I keep a beach blanket in the car and stop in random parks to enjoy the view, read a book or just soak up some sunshine.   And I’m learning to be open to new opportunities, no matter how strange they seem at first.   (I’ve started dating but that’s a completely different blog topic – “10 true first date stories that will make you appreciate your significant other”!)   I’m going to new events, talking to strangers and spending time outside. All of these things keep my mind fresh and help me from slipping back into routine.   The key is to keep your brain guessing about what’s happening next!   What’s next?   I’ve listed my condo for sale and I’m so excited for the next phase!   I love my condo, it’s beautiful and was exactly what I was looking for before I left on Remote Year. But now I’m back and I’ve changed – it simply doesn’t fit me anymore.   Selling my home allows me to pay off debts, establish a nest egg, and be flexible to embrace opportunities as they arise.   I see myself house-sitting a lovely home on the lake over the fall/winter and then who knows what the spring will bring.   As I’ve always believed, life is a daring adventure or nothing at all!    

I’ve traveled lots, usually in six-week time frames, and it was always hard to get back in the swing of things – to set an alarm, to commute to the office, to reconcile what you’ve seen with where you live.   So I imagined it would be the same after coming home from a year of travel, perhaps a little bumpy at first but things would smooth out.   But they haven’t.   I’ve struggled with whether or not I should share what I’m going through because I don’t want people to think it’s something they said or didn’t say, they did or didn’t do, and I don’t want to appear ungrateful for the amazing life I live.   However, I’ve spent a year being vulnerable and writing about how I feel, and I don’t want to stop simply because I’m home and it’s hard.   Coming home after an extended time away is much harder than I expected. There’s the excitement of seeing family and friends, the joy of discovering the changes in your hometown, the bliss of snuggling into your own bed.   But there is also the loneliness of being separated from the people I just spent a year traveling with. There’s the isolation of having no one understand what you’ve been through, no one who relates to the range of emotions rolling under the surface.   I feel sad and yet I don’t know how to express it or even if should express it. I worry that people will think I’m ungrateful for the experience and I should be happy to be home.   And I am happy to see my family and friends but there’s also this huge hole – a space that was filled with 45 people that shared every day with me. A freedom of living life on our terms. An excitement of chasing whatever dreams caught our eye.   We held each other through the loss of family members, pets and careers; we nursed each other’s broken hearts, broken bones and upset stomachs; we celebrated new loves, new jobs and overcoming fears; we stayed up all night talking about what happens next, what scares us, what makes us feel alive.   We also did the mundane tasks of normal life – we shopped for groceries, we took out the garbage, we paid our bills.   It wasn’t a vacation, we were simply living our life in another city.   Only my closest friends, who have known me for years, can see that something has changed, that I’m not the same, that I’m struggling with being home.   I feel like I’m living in two worlds, straddling the dimensions and not sure where I belong.   I don’t fit back into my old life – I’ve been stretched, expanded, tested and grown. It’s simply not possible to come back and carry on as if nothing has changed – when truly everything has changed.   The hard part is that all that change is on the inside and you have to look closely to see it.   One friend said my eyes have changed, the color, the depth. Yes, they have – because of what I’ve seen this year.   Another friend said she feels like she has part of her back that she didn’t really know had been missing.   This is so beautiful.   Yes, I am loved. I am so loved and blessed.   Which is why I struggle with this transition.   Why am I not more excited to be home? Why can’t I find my footing? Why do I drive down familiar streets feeling completely detached? Why do I want to cry but have no idea why?   People ask me how it was or what my favourite part was or if I’m glad to be home – and I don’t know how to answer. A quick response or even a few minutes can’t begin to explain everything I’ve seen and learned, nor the unsettled state my emotions are in.   I usually gloss over most of it – say it was great, such a good year, not without its challenges but I’m glad to be home – and I move on.   But my stomach is in my throat. I feel sweaty and anxious, like I’m not being honest.   Home should be comfortable and welcoming and familiar – but all the sudden it’s not, because I’m so very different.   Yes, I’m grateful. I’m so eternally grateful for the experience and the people and the life lessons.   But I no longer identify with the person who used to wear the clothes I left behind in my closet. (In fact, I sometimes put on my “travel” clothes just to feel like myself.) The food I used to eat on a daily basis no longer appeals to me. The things I used to love no longer light me up.   And it makes me sad, and I want to express that, but I don’t know how.   I’ve always followed my heart, not my head and this sometimes makes me experience a wide range of emotions. And when my emotions are this charged, it’s usually best to simply sit with them – to just allow myself to feel everything and not hide from whatever comes up.   So, here I sit in this grief and this sadness and understand that it exists because I played full out. Because I made the choice to leap – and I went. Because I pushed the boundaries and chased a dream not everyone could see.   And people say that I’m brave and I want to tell them I’m not brave, I’m not extraordinary.   There were so many times I was scared – about being a freelancer, about getting hurt, about fitting in, about the next step.   I cried, I stressed, I worried, I screamed, I laid awake at night.   I didn’t feel brave. I only knew that

Now that I’m home, everyone asks me one of two questions: where was your favourite place or what did you learn?   It’s too hard to pick just one city but my favourite place to be is always on the water so anywhere near water wins my heart.   As for what I learned, here are a few random thoughts: (Note: the idea for this blog and many of the tips came from Anastasia Chapman, our fearless program leader – thanks Momma Stasia!  xo)   There’s nothing like a four-hour ferry ride to make new friends Figure out the currency conversion before checking into a spa for the weekend Always pack snacks   Make friends with someone who has access to the airport lounge  Castle walls are slippery in the rain Keep an extra deodorant stick in your backpack   A nap is always a good idea Check the level of the tide before you go cliff jumping Always hang on in the back of an open-air Jeep – you never know when you might fly over a sand dune   When eating street food, choose the stall with the longest queue Renting a beach umbrella is a smart idea The best way to catch an early flight is to stay up all night   Flushing toilet paper is an overlooked luxury If stray dogs can figure out the metro system, so can you Back up all your photos   Treasure the friends who offer a hand, wait for you and walk slowly up the mountain You can never get rid of sand in a backpack Pretending to take a photo is a great way to check out guys   Don’t run a half marathon when you aren’t in shape Eat outside every chance you get Google Maps is one of the best inventions ever   A glass of port beneath a castle, in a Jeep, with friends always tastes better It’s okay to sleep in a sandy bed, it means you had a great day Catch a sunrise or sunset every day – it’s always worth it   Starting a campfire requires newspaper and a lighter Find the balance between enjoying the moment and capturing the moment Stray dogs may bite you   All you need is a jar of peanut butter The best secrets are found down narrow, cobblestone streets If the place is called “Hot Mess”, it’s likely you’ll be one too   Food poisoning is a surprise cleanse you didn’t know you needed It’s cold at the top of mountains Uber is amazing – use it, love it   Always keep a few coins and tissue in your pocket (you never know when you need a bathroom) The best way to see a city is by bike Buy tickets in advance for something you really want to see   Workspaces provide free tea Make sure your train ticket seat faces forward Don’t be afraid of getting lost – that’s usually when you find the best places   Learn to take two-minute showers in Europe Midnight bike rides through the city make you feel alive Always pack a swimsuit   A smile will take you a long way in any language Say yes often!        

Month 12 of my adventure was a time for reflection and planning for the future. One of the things that rolled through my mind was – how do I want to show up in my community when I return?   I’ve lived in Kelowna for 10+ years and have lots of friends and business contacts I’m looking forward to reconnecting with. But is there something more? Is there a way I could give back after my year away?   As always, once we ask the question, the answer appears.   One of the things I love to do is laugh. I laugh every day – all the time – and always find things that make me happy.   When I was in Bogota, I met a woman who was a “happiness consultant”. I asked her more about this and she told me she goes into businesses, talks about mindfulness and gratitude and leads a laughter yoga session.   Laughter Yoga – yes, it’s a thing!   I first experienced it in 2012 when I went to Sanoviv, an integrative medical facility in Mexico. Now I had this experience in Bogota and later I dreamed about it at a meditation retreat in Ixtapa so took it as a sign – I was going to get certified as a laughter yoga instructor and offer classes when I get home to Kelowna!   As I began my search for training, there were no options in Canada and I wondered how this dream was going to come together.   I contacted my original instructor at Sanoviv and he put me in touch with the International Laughter Yoga University. Turns out, they had an instructor in Mexico City so I contacted her right away.   And would you believe she was offering the training that weekend?! And she spoke English!   She only offers the training twice a year and it happened to fall exactly when I needed it. (I love it when things magically line up!)   I enrolled and spent a full weekend with seven amazing women, laughing, sharing, learning together. I walked away with not only a certificate but seven new friends to keep me laughing every day.   Although most of my month was filled with laughs, I also had some scary moments, as I experienced my first major earthquake.   Of course, we’d heard about the devastating earthquake in Sept 2017 and many of us expressed concerns about living in the city for a month. But we were assured everything was safe and we’d have no issues.   On February 16, a 7.2 magnitude earthquake hit near the coast and shook things up again in Mexico City.   I was home alone and felt things start to sway. It was a disorienting feeling and I wasn’t sure what was happening – until the wall-mounted TV crashed to the floor. Then I realized it was an earthquake and went back to my elementary school training – dive under a desk or get to a doorframe.   Not having a desk or a table, I stood in the doorframe waiting for things to stop moving, as pictures fell off the wall, furniture moved, and car alarms sounded outside.   Then there was banging on my front door and yelling in Spanish. I opened the door to see the building’s security guard standing there and he grabbed me indicating to get out.   I gingerly ran down the metal steps in my bare feet and went outside – where traffic had stopped and people stood around, cautiously looking up.   As I stood there, I thought – this is crazy! If anything collapses, we’re going to get hit with falling debris!   But when in a foreign country, my policy is always “follow the locals” so I stood there and waited.   About an hour later, they let us back into the building but my nerves were rattled and I couldn’t focus for the rest of the evening and definitely didn’t sleep that night.   We had a 5.2 magnitude aftershock the next night, which shook me in my bed and ensured I wouldn’t get a full night’s sleep for the rest of the month.   I experienced physical symptoms afterwards and felt like I had vertigo. (Trusting this goes away once I get home!)   Determined to experience a final few tourist stops while in the city, we turned to a classic choice – the hop on-hop off bus. This is such a great way to see a city, especially one as big as Mexico City.   We explored two of the four options in one day, stopping at the Basilica of Guadalupe, a destination for many pilgrimages.   We also got tickets to see a folklore dance at Belles Artes, a gorgeous theatre in the heart of downtown. The evening was full of traditional regional dances including costumes and music.   My heart sang with the beautiful, soulful sounds and I knew it was the perfect way to wrap up my time in Mexico.   The only thing left was our final farewell party. We boarded vans and drove two hours out of the city, along dusty, narrow, windy roads to arrive at a gorgeous villa at the mountain foothills. There was a pool, mansion, guest house, gardens and so many lovely places to curl up in the sun or shade and share memories with friends.   We spent the whole day together – the final 42 people who “graduated” from the Remote Year adventure.   We shared what we’d learned this year, how we’ve changed, what we were grateful for. We signed each other’s yearbooks, we posed for photos and we wrapped it up with an outdoor dinner under twinkle lights in the trees.   It was magical. It was sad. It was happy. It was perfect.