I would like to cordially invite you to my midlife crisis.
The winter before my discontent
I’ll spare you the self indulgent rehashing of each tiny detail, but the long and short of it is my grandmother died and five months later I turned 40. Facing the end of my 30s made that existential meet-and-greet with mortality all the more bitter and disorienting.
To celebrate my birthday, my husband and I were able to travel in Northern Europe together. Finally traveling again after a four-year hiatus brought on a rush of joyful curiosity.
Reigniting my love of travel on the heels of my up-close-and-personal reminder of life’s brevity shook my resolve to maintain the safe, uninspired portions of my life.
My husband and I began crafting big, scary 10-year travel goals. I became more willing to actually hear the voice in my soul screaming, “Write! Share! Tell the stories of these place you have loved.”
I was feeling unmoored and restless, but cautiously optimistic. And then the universe kicked me square in the ass and I was unexpectedly laid off from my job of 13 years.
So whether I like it or not, the universe is creating space for me. I have a degree of autonomy over my time and my life that I have never experienced in adulthood.
So that’s what I’m going to be doing here.
Taking my midlife crisis, my forced transitions, and saying f^#k it… let’s do this.
Actively creating a beautiful life.
Making my way.
Directing my course.
Traveling.
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