I’ve spent the past six years largely single. I’ve been on too many first dates to count. I’ve had a couple brief romantic attachments. I even thought I was falling in love once or twice — that there was serious long-term potential — ready to go all-in. I’ve been over-the-moon in rose-colored bliss, and I’ve [...]
Three-bedroom house and 2-car garage. Six-figure salary and company-sponsored health care. My family, friends, and country of origin. I had all the stability and security and comfort in the world, and I gave it all up. I wrestled with my decision for a really long time, and I ran through scenarios, numbers, and options. Sure, it didn't make logical sense. Who would throw away a money-making asset such as a house? Why leave a job that more than paid the bills, that allowed me to live nomadically and travel the U.S. while working remotely? Who would drive to Mexico and stay for 6 months, leaving her family, friends, language, and way of life behind? It didn't make sense, but I kept on dreaming. My longings for a life of adventure, of discovery, of escaping tradition and societal expectations — couldn't be silenced. And so I adopted these three mantras, which I hold dear to me and share with you now.
"Uh oh, I better maximize my vacation and have all the fun because the clock is ticking!" "Uh oh, my free time on vacation is finite so I better choose all the best activities and nothing better go wrong!" "Uh oh, sleeping in or just taking it easy while on vacation means I'm wasting my precious time!" See how the scarcity mindset sets you up to fail? I have since learned to think of time in abundance to find balance while traveling, and you should too.
When I announced that I was quitting my job after 14 years in the workforce and “moving” to Mexico for 180 days on savings, “Why Mexico?” was one of my frequently asked questions. My answer is three-fold...
The average person works super hard for ~45 years and hopes all his efforts have paid off; that he will still have physical health and presence of mind (and financial security) to enjoy the time he has left. It doesn’t always work out that way. Case in point: my father. I’m young (36). I’m healthy. I’m single, un-obligated and uninhibited, with only a pup to care for. So to my employer: it's over. It’s not you, it’s me. Call it a sabbatical or a mini retirement or a temporary early retirement, I need to put my priorities, passions, and purpose first. I’m going where the creativity takes me, while I have the blessing of mental prowess, physical health, and minimal obligations.
If I'm to organize my nomad life journey into chapters, this is the end of one: going back to Phoenix to clear out my storage unit in November 2021. My trip marked a decision: the nomad life will continue indefinitely.
I’ve been at the nomad life for over one year in the U.S., and it suits me. It does! But I’ve made a point to be honest with you guys. I see people on the web glamorizing this life. And it’s not for everyone. I think it’s important to have as many facts as you can, and be honest with yourself. Here are some truths you need to face if you want to be a nomad...
In August, Canada opened the border between the U.S. and Canada for non-essential travel after what seemed like ages of closure. So naturally, given that I was in the northeast in early fall, I decided to venture into my neighbor of the north in month #13 of nomad life! But all the rules and restrictions were… a little overwhelming, especially when it came to the complicated timing. Let me break it down...
I'm officially one year in to nomad life, and I figured it was high time to compile answers to some of my readers' most frequently asked questions... about what brought me to this decision, how I'm traveling, what my job is, how I afford this, and dating on the road, to name a few.
When I made the decision in 2020 to embark on a nomadic lifestyle, there was no question that I would bring my miniature Australian shepherd Penny with me… even knowing that traveling with a dog will make my full-time vagabond life much more complicated. Here are some of the realities I’ve encountered.
I'm a digital nomad, and I have been traveling full-time for almost 11 months. I get this question often during my #nomadlife travels: “How do you decide where to go and when?” The answer is, honestly, I don’t overthink it. I consider a combination of things when planning where to home base out of next. Read more...
Most people are good. I’ve met so many helpful, hospitable, generous people while traveling, of all nationalities and sexes and ages, and I know this to be true: most people are good. While I’m not naturally distrusting or fearful, I AM self-aware, prepared, and I trust my intuition. From someone who’s been solo traveling for 15 years, and 100% full-time for the past 9-plus months, here’s my advice to you...
I had a great conversation recently with a new friend. As we were swapping downsizing stories, she threw this word out there — OVERHEAD — which immediately struck me. You business people know what ‘overhead’ is. But ‘life overhead,’ as I’ve decided to call it, is ongoing expenditures (whether money, time or emotional energy) that do not directly contribute or bring value or profit to YOUR LIFE — THE LIFE YOU DESIRE.
I am a full-time solo traveler. I work remotely and am location-independent. I am completely self-sufficient, and my life is super glamorous, right? Like anything, there are downsides and annoyances to a life full of travel. And as always, I want to be real with you. Read on...
I made a home; been there, done that. The experience had its place in my life, and one day, I may make another home. But all my experiences, all my learnings, all my challenges have shown me, that 'home' for me is not the traditional brick and mortar building that provides comfort and security and holds all your stuff. Home is within me. I am my own home, and I am comfortable and secure in myself.
To me, missing something means that I’m longing for it, pining for it. So do I 'miss Arizona,' my former home of 11 years? No, I can't say that I do — and let me tell you why.
When you’re living this life day to day, each day is not so momentous. I wake up in the bed I’m sleeping in, wherever it may be. I dress for the weather conditions, be it -8 (Montana in October) or 75 (Miami in January). But when I think back on how I accomplished so much — how I offloaded so much in 7 weeks — I’m almost overwhelmed. Put together and examined as a whole, what I did really was momentous, and I do give myself credit for that achievement. And now, I'm living aboard a catamaran in Miami... it's a dream and a thrill.
When I tell people I’m a nomad that travels full-time, they either think I’m a vanlifer who only eats ramen (the cheap kind, not the good kind) or that I must be staying in posh places and spending a lot of money. Well, false on both counts! I’m here to say: it can, but it doesn’t have to cost a lot of money to be a gypsy. So, let’s talk comparisons, facts, and figures… time to break out the spreadsheet!
At best, I’ve been questioned, and at worst, criticized for my decision to sell my house and travel full-time (while in the middle of a pandemic). Why 2020? Why, when the world is blowing up, would I want to hit the road like Mad Max into hell? I had a choice: safe, easy, and lazy... or uncertain, unknown, and life-changing. Would you choose the same?
July 24, 2020: My 35th birthday AND the day my house went under contract. My dream of traveling full-time as a gypsy, vagabonding nomad was right there on the horizon... and the only thing in the way of ultimate freedom? A house-full of stuff. I had 7 weeks until closing. So how did I decide what would go and what would stay?