The winds will carry you.

"I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going.

And I have trained myself to love it."

 

Our nomadic lives are about to pull us out of Mexico and into the next adventure.

 

We leave our Baja home in two days. I feel like I'm suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight.

 

Technically, we know where we're landing: California, New York, Colorado, Vietnam, Cambodia, and China. Yet there's so much we don't know. We will be on the move, experiencing people and places and cultures new to us.

 

How different that feels than being rooted here in our casita, enjoying the rhythms of beach life.

 

These three months, I've loved living next door to my sister and enjoying our long walks with her dogs.

Rama and Dino at San Pedrito beach.

 

We celebrated Dave's birthday with a bunch of friends from our wonderful community, featuring homemade tortillas and tacos al pastor.

Simon and Paolo from El Poblano, one of Dave's favs, catered for his birthday.

 

We spent time in La Paz, communing with amigos and whale sharks.

 

On Omar's boat.

 

Swimming with this 40-foot beauty was sublime.

We enjoyed spontaneous dance parties and meeting new people, many who dropped in for a few days or weeks, then left to journey on.

 

Kimberly's birthday at Palapa 1!

We were able to enjoy our home more this time because instead of scrambling around to get it furnished and completed, we could hang out. Writing, editing, reading, playing Scrabble, cooking, enjoying neighbors who dropped by--this was where the action happened.

 

Casita Once

 

So here we are, perched on leaving what now feels like home. Goodbye amigos and la playa. Adios fish tacos and ocean air. So long dogs and music everywhere.

 

When we left Santa Cruz three years ago, I didn't realize we'd be saying goodbye to home and hello to the next thing, again and again.

 

Before yoga class yesterday, Kylie, the teacher, and I were talking about life's uncertainties--especially in the face of nomadic existence. She said, "You're going to like the poem I brought." During savasana (corpse pose), she read:

 

 

We rolled over from savasana and curled onto our sides: reborn from the corpse to the fetus. Death, birth. Goodbye, hello.

 

And then we stood and spread our arms, our wings. An ocean wind blew through the room, carrying us.